Lust for Revenge
by Fire Sage
Summary: "Sammy, I can't-" Dean tried to speak, tell his brother that he couldn't stop, that they should fight this, but his words were quickly swallowed as his mouth was taken in another kiss."  Anal,Inc,M/M
1. Lust for Revenge

_A/N: Hello all! This is my first ever slash story as well as my first ever Wincest story (the plot bunnies laid eggs in my head and wouldn't go away) so if it's not splendiferous, I apologize. I'm trying something new. Enjoy!_

_

* * *

_

It was the end of a very successful day of hunting for the boys of Winchester. The job had been taken care of quickly, efficiently, and with no personal damage to either individual. In their book, they called that a win. The ghost they had been hunting had been B-list at best, so it wasn't hard to wrap it up and move on to the next one on wherever the road may take them.

However, as was customary for anything good in the Winchesters life, the second they got back into town Dean Winchester pulled the Impala into a bar and demanded a drink. "Aw come on Sammy, get that stick in the mud out 'ca ass."

"It's Sam. And I don't have a stick up my ass! I'm tired, I'm dirty, and I want to go back to the motel so I can shower and pass out." Sam argue with his older, but childish, brother.

"Come on! One drink, maybe help me hustle a few games, it'll be fun. You need to loosen up." Was Dean rebuttal, smacking his brother in the arm.

"No Dean. No drinks, no games, I'm going back to the motel and you can't stop me." Sam said, his words ringing finality.

"Eh you're no fun." Dean said, waving his hand to shoo his brother away realizing he had lost this argument. Sam rolled his eyes, but smiled faintly at him, before walking back out the door he had just walked through.

The oldest Winchester shrugged, a little disappointed that his brother didn't want to spend time with him, but turned and sauntering into the bar fully with his typical swagger. He scanned the crowd absently, looking yet not looking for something, but then his eyes caught something. _Bingo!_ His eyes landed on the voluptuous form of a blonde in a skin tight black dress sitting alone at the bar, and Dean thought that that was just an awful way for her to be.

"Hi, is this seat taken?" The perky blonde seated at the bar turned to look at him from absent mindedly twirling the swizzle stick in her cocktail. He smiled at her with pearly white teeth which she shyly returned.

"No, it's not." She answers sweetly in a southern twang followed by a girlish giggle. He smirks mentally and sits down.

"So what's a nice, pretty girl like you doin' in a place like this?" He asked after ordering himself a beer.

"It's the only place to get a good drink in town and I'm not that nice." She answers, flipping her hair over to the other side to give him a view of the long, alabaster column of her neck and a sultry smile. Dean smirks visibly and sips his beer.

"Well, that's good to know. What's your name?"

"Desiree," She tells him and Dean's smirk widens. _Weren't they always?_

"Well Desiree, I'm Dean." He says, offering her his hand. She smile playfully and takes it delicately.

"Nice to meet you Dean."

* * *

A few hours and beers later Dean heard the words that he had been waiting to hear, "Hey, you wanna get out of here?" whispered hot against his ear and a hand placed _casually_ on his thigh. The two had stumbled into the Impala as they groped each other and then stumbled back out once they made it to the parking lot in front of the motel. Dean fumbled with the keys a little as he tried to get the door open and flung the flimsy plywood door open once he had succeeded.

He smiled in victory over the door, but it quickly vanished as his younger brother stared at him with a startled look from his bed.

"Hey Sammy," Dean said, laughing nervously and rubbing the back of his head. He couldn't believe he forgot to call Sam.

"Hey Dean, Hello…"

"Desiree," The blonde offered and Sam forced a clenched smile at her.

"Of course you are," He said and looked at his brother, silently asking him _what the hell was going on?_

"Listen Sam, um…do you think you could go catch a movie for a bit?" Dean asked, more pleaded, his younger brother.

"It's almost midnight, _Dean_, and this town doesn't have a theater." Sam said stressing, almost hissing, the others name to show him his disdain for the very idea of him being thrown out into the night so he could screw some bar slut into the mattress.

"He can stay." Desiree piped up as she moved further into the room, eyeing the younger Winchester sitting in his track shorts and T-shirt on the bed in a way that made him feel uncomfortable. Sam gave a cringe of a smile.

"That's ok. I'll just leave you two alone." He said, angrily standing and moving to grab his sneakers that were placed by the door. A hand jazzed up with long fire cracker red nails shot out and grabbed his forearm when he moved passed.

"That wasn't a request, junior. You don't get to say no." Sam looked down startled at the petite blonde at held him, unable to move, as she smirked wickedly at him with ruby red lips. Dean too became startled as his 'date's' voice dropped an octave and now held a sense of wickedness to it. He moved forward to pull the woman off his brother, but was also frozen in his tracks.

"Nh uh, big man, it's not your turn to play yet." She mocked.

"What the fuck?" Dean said quietly as he tried to move his limbs that just wouldn't listen to him. Sam tried to do the same, but was equally unsuccessful. Desiree chuckled darkly.

"Don't fight. It only makes it worse in the end. You two just be good little boys and follow along." She said, looking over her shoulder at him with pitch black eyes.

"What the fuck do you want bitch?" Dean hissed angrily at her, eyes a blaze as he glared at her.

"Oooo…such a filthy mouth you have Dean. And to think I was going to let you kiss me with that mouth, good thing it won't be me you'll be kissing." She chuckled with superiority at the captured boys that still tried to break free. "Though I am a little hurt you don't remember me. After all, we did share such a special time together. I guess their right; men really don't respect you in the morning."

"Sorry, I don't fuck demon skank." Desiree pouted at him and made a sound like she was injured before returning to her lofty expression.

"Well dear, we didn't fuck, though not through any fault of my own. I had it all planned out till you tried to drown me in a bath tub full of holy water." She told him, her face forming a sneer as she recalled the memory as if it were still happening.

"Lust?" Dean questioned in disbelief. The demon smiled.

"Ah, so you do remember me. I'm touched."

"How the hell did you get back out?" Sam spat at her and the blonde turned her attention back to him with a smile.

"The same way everyone gets out. I had to crawl and bleed and scrap for months to drag myself out of the Pit." She told them in contempt.

"Seems like a lot of work for a bitch that's just gonna get sent back." Dean told her. She turned back to him with a sweet smile laced with danger.

"Maybe I am going back to hell, _dear_, but I'm going to give you a little taste of it before I do." Dean barked laugh at her threat, ever brave and prideful in the face of danger.

"Isn't wrath the other one's gig."

Lust seemed to bristle at this and through clenched teeth and forced smile she hissed, "Well, it would be, if you bastards hadn't killed him."

"I get it now. This is revenge for killing your friends." Sam said casually as he glared at her.

"They weren't my friends! _They _were my brothers and sister!" She roared at him before quickly regaining her composer and smiling darkly at him. "So now, I'm going to hurt you like you hurt them. And whoever said revenge is a dish best served cold, obviously never tried it hot."

"So you're gonna torture us with your lusty demon powers? Gonna make use your little sex slaves or somethin'? What?" Dean said, still playing the fearless card.

Lust's smile widen to a possibly genuine smile of pure wickedness. "Tempting, but no, and it's not what I'm gonna do. It's what you're gonna do." She stepped closer to the older Winchester, pulling the younger one along with her; who followed like a disobedient child. "You see, I thought long and hard about what I was gonna do to you when I got out. Believe me; I came up with some _great _ideas. But no plan was more perfect, more agonizingly brilliant than this one." She stopped arms length between the two of them, a hand on each of their shoulder, as their bodies faced each other while they glared heinously at her. "Because nothing I could do to you could hurt or torment you more than having you do it to each other."

Lust's wicked smile returned and the men cringed as they felt her power crawl across their skin like hundreds of spiders, whispering things to them of unadulterated lechery that only they could hear in their minds. They slumped slightly when Lust's hands released them and looked as if in a daze. "Though this would be heavenly to watch, I'll leave you two alone. After all this is a family affair," She chuckled darkly as she leisurely walked toward the door. "Don't wake the neighbors." She mocked over her shoulder, cackling madly as she closed the door behind her.

Sam and Dean didn't pay her any mind. It was hard to hear anything over the accelerating heart beat and rush of blood in their ears. Their minds were fuzzy, as if in a fog, looking around like everything was now new and confusing. Finally their eyes landed on each other. For a moment they just stood there, staring at each other with eyes almost dilated black as one would when meeting someone you weren't quite sure you met before.

Then suddenly the space between them disappeared. They were now pressed impossibly close to one another. Their hands roaming as if to try and touch everywhere, yet grasping and holding on as if their lives depended on it. Their mouths were now locked in a barrage of passionate, fiery kisses. Kisses almost too fierce to be pleasurable despite the wanton moans they seemed to be bringing.

Dean pulled back a hair's breadth from Sam's face; panting heavily as his lungs tried to greedily suck down the much needed oxygen they had been deprived. "Sam, Sammy, I can't-" Dean tried to speak, tell his brother that he couldn't stop, that they should fight this, but his words were quickly swallowed as his mouth was taken in another kiss.

"Dean I-" Sam tried to speak the second time they pulled away, tell him that he couldn't stop either, that he couldn't fight it, but was cut off by the moan that escaped him when his brother's body rubbed up against his.

"Sam, we, I…" Dean didn't know what he was trying to say, but whatever it was it didn't seem to matter anymore as Sam's body grinded back against his and his brain short circuited. He had never felt like this before. This pleasure that coursed through his vein was so intense that he was almost blinded with it. All he could see, all he could hear, all he could feel was Sam.

Dean's jacket fell to the floor in a heavy clump before his fingers latched on to the base of Sam's scull and waist. He honestly wasn't surprise at how soft the much longer chocolate locks were. What did surprise him as how the feel of it turned him on even more. With slow, jerky movements Dean lead his brother backwards and, like always, Sam willingly followed his brother's lead where ever it took him. The younger Winchester was a little startled when his knees hit the back of the bed and he tumble on to the mattress that protested with a squeak. Sam's eyes flickered up to his brother who stood over him for a moment with pleading green eyes, though unsure what he was asking for. He didn't have time to think about it, however, as his brother descended on him quickly and pinning him to the bed with more feverous kisses and touches.

Somewhere in the fray Dean's shirt was tossed haplessly on to the floor, his shoes kicked off at the foot of the bed, and Sam's shirt making its way somewhere across the room in a place he didn't much care. Dean moaned loudly into the expanse of neck he was biting and sucking on as blunt nails scrapped down his back in an attempt to grab purchase on something as the body under him arched. Beneath him Sam's mouth hung open and his head fell back as his brother bit harder into his neck and ground his pelvis harder against his. The feel of the rough material of Dean's jeans grinding against him in just his shorts was enough to drive him insane. If he wasn't already rock hard he was pretty sure that he would be. He moaned again as Dean switched sides and began abusing his neck all over again with wonderful bites and suction.

The boys continued to thrust against each other in fitful passion, trying desperately to relieve some of the pressure that just seemed to keep building and building in them. Sam had finally had enough and flipped his brother with an amazing amount of speed and strength that was often over looked in the quiet man. He fumbled with the buckle of his brother's belt and the fly of his jeans as he tried to hastily undo them as he licked, bit, and kissed Dean's neck and chest until the man was almost in spasms. "Sam…?" Dean questioned looking down at the top of his brother's head as the man in question journeyed down his body and yanked his pants down as he went.

Sam looked up at him. The once brilliant green irises now just a small sliver around blown pupil as he looked up at him with hungry, begging eyes. Dean didn't know what he was begging for. To stop? To continue? Dean didn't know, because quite frankly he didn't even know which he wanted. But like all questions and thoughts that had come about in this hour, it was quickly whipped away as the lust pushed them forward, uncaring of their thoughts or feelings.

Dean groaned out a deep moan and twisted his hands in the bedding under him as Sam took him in his mouth. He jerked and quivered as Sam worked his cock like he had been doing it for years. He knew just when to suck, where to lave his tongue, and when to stroke his balls with just enough pressure to make spots dance before his eyes. As Sam worked, he thrust his hand into his shorts and jerked himself to the sound of Dean moaning and babbling words. He should have been disgusted. Doing this to a man, his _brother_ no less, but all he felt was a burning desire for more as the sounds turned him on and made him hotter. Dean was actually ashamed of himself at how quickly the one blowjob had him cumming. He tried to stay it off, but he couldn't stop it. He didn't even have time to warn Sammy before his back bow as his cock pulsed out white hot seamen down his brother's throat.

When it was finished Dean just laid there panting, trying to regain focus from one of the most intense orgasms in his life. He sat up a little just on his elbows just in time to see Sam rising from in between his legs. His lips were red and swallow from being wrapped around his cock. His shorts and hand were stained with his own ejaculate. His body flushed and panting like Dean's as he came down from his own intense orgasm. The sight of him was enough to make Dean hard all over again.

He lunged forward and grabbed his brother by the shoulders, practically throwing him into the bed as he kissed him savagely. He should have been disgusted that he could taste the salty, musky flavor of himself on the man's tongue, but he wasn't. The taste, the sheer reminder of how it got there, was only accelerating his growing erection. He needed more. He had to have _more._

Dean ripped the solid shorts off Sam's hips, grazing over his cock that was stirring to life as well, causing Sam to all but scream out "Ah, Dean!" at the fleeting touch. He smirked a little at that, reveling in it.

"You like that Sammy? You want me to touch you?" He don't know what possessed him to say that, but then again he was possessed, which it what he told himself when he liked it. Sam moaned and thrashed helplessly as his older brother grazed his finger tips over his still sensitive and half hardening cock.

"Dean please!" He didn't know what he was asking for, but Sam had long ago lost the will to think for himself during this. The lust inside him was in control as it puppeteered him into some common whore for his brother.

"Please what?" Dean asked wickedly, licking the shell of the ear he whispered heatedly into.

"Please…I need…I need you! Please….I…I need more." Sam could barely speak through all the panting and moaning he was doing.

Dean moaned a little at the breathless begging of his brother and kissed him deeply. Unable to leave his brother's lips for just a moment, Dean blindly felt around the dresser for the small bottles of hand lotion the motel they were in had been kind enough to leave. He slicked up his fingers with the creamy substance. He had never done this before, but he had seen enough porn in his life to know what he was doing.

Sam cried out into Dean's mouth as the first finger pushed past his opening. It didn't hurt, but it was definitely uncomfortable. He was torn momentarily over whether to tell Dean to stop or to keep going. The decision was made for him as a second finger was pushed in, then a third, and slowly started pumping into him.

Sam felt like he should be ashamed. Having this done to him, by his own brother, while he lay their and took it like some slut. But he didn't, couldn't, and any thought of that was completely wiped away in a white flash that covered his eyes. "Oh God Dean, do that again!" Dean looked down at the younger man beneath him that arched shamelessly and pressed further into his touch. So, Dean never being one to say no to anything that Sam requested, did it again. And again. And again. Until Sam was all but screaming and fucking him own self on Dean's fingers in order to get his prostate hit faster.

Seeing him like this, withering in wild abandon, should have upset Dean. But all he felt was an over powering need to fuck him his beautiful brother until he couldn't see straight. So Dean quickly removed his fingers, slicked up his aching cock, and plunged into him. Both men opened their mouths to cry out soundless screams at the sensation of being joined together finally. It was so hot and so tight and right now where nothing made any sense this was the one thing that felt right.

Dean didn't give either of them much time to adjust before he was thrusting into the tight heat that held him. He should have felt ashamed for doing this. Doing this to his brother, his best friend, his partner, but he couldn't. With all of the heat and the passion and the need and the fucking amazing feeling of thrusting into Sam's willing body he had no more room left in him to feel ashamed.

Sam moaned wantonly as Dean plunged into him over and over, wrapping his legs around his waist and holding his shoulders tightly as he tried to keep pace. Sam cried out to Dean over and over again like he was some sort of God. Dean answered him with every thrust. Saying Sam's name over and over again, trying to hit that spot in him that made him see stars. His stared into at Sam from above him, arms locked beside the younger man who's head thrashed for side to side as he beg Dean not to stop and to give him more. "Oh God Dean... Dean…I can't… I'm gonna….!" Sam's fingers dug into his brother's shoulder aggressively as he arched off the bed and splattered his cum all over himself and Dean's torso.

"Uh, Sam, Oh God Sam! Sammy!" Sam clenching around Dean was the final straw that pushed Dean over the edge again and he came hot and long into Sam as he gripped his brother tightly like he'd fall away if he didn't hold on. When it was over Dean collapsed onto the bed and Sam, panting and sweating like he had just ran a marathon in record time. Under his Sam struggle to catch his breath as well, unable to focus on the aging ceiling above him as it kept going in and out of focus.

After a few moments Dean rolled off of his brother and assumed a similar position on his back next to him. He knew he should say something. Tell Sam he was sorry, beg him for forgiveness, something. But he couldn't. Instead he turned his head to look over at his brother that lay next to him who turned his head and did the same. They looked at each other for a moment before turning back to look at the ceiling that was finally coming into focus.

They could talk later, when the room and their bodies didn't smell like sex, when the intensity of said sex wasn't so fresh in their minds. They could talk later, but right now…they just couldn't.

* * *

_Fin! I hope you enjoyed! I would appreciate some reviews and feedback since this is my first slash and Wincest fic. Also, if enough people enjoyed it I may continue this into an actual story (curse you plot bunnies! Your spawn has hatched and laid more eggs!). Oh well, we shall see. Cyber hugs everyone!_


	2. Chapter 2

_Hello all. So I have decided to continue this from a one-shot to a full-fledged story ^_^. I hope everyone enjoys!_

_

* * *

_

The problem with cheap motel curtains was that they were well….cheap. Cheaply looking, cheaply made. So when the harsh light came in contact with the sickly, asparagus green curtains, it did little to stay off the day's sun shiny welcome.

Dean was the first to be greeted by the bright hello. He had always been the one to sleep closest to the door. A force of habit from having to protect his little brother as a child and be the first line of defense against whatever might burst through the door. He always slept in the bed closest to the door, on the side closest to the door, facing the door, and right now he was sourly cursing that habit in his brain. The older Winchester groaned and rubbed his face with a tired, heavy hand. When he opened his eyes into very thin slits he glared at the light that poked him away. Why did the sun have to be so goddamn sunny today? Why couldn't it be fucking cloudy?

Dean sat up on his opposite arm and glanced at the clock on the night stand. The bright red numbers shone 12:13. God, had they really slept so late? The thought of they brought a bone crushing realization to his mind that stopped Dean in his tracks. He suddenly realized that he was not in what was to be his bed, which was in front of him. His body was relaxed but slightly soar, the feeling that you got when you've had a really good fuck. He was naked, something he preferred not to do if he could help it in motel bed. The bed was moving slightly in tune with the sound of breathing that was behind him. Dean free hand, that had been rubbing the back of his head, found its way to his mouth in an effort to keep him from screaming or vomiting or…he didn't know. Whatever it was, he made sure to keep his hand there when he looked over his shoulder to confirm who was behind him.

And there, dead to the world for all to see, lay Sam. His face relaxed in peaceful sleep that he so rarely got. Hair tousled from having fingers ran through it and mussed from tossing in his sleep. One arm was propped over his head while the other lay limp against the edge of the bunched up sheet at his belly button. His bare chest rising and falling in an even, hypnotic manner as he continued to sleep unaware of his brother's scrutiny.

_Oh God_, Dean's mind could only seem to think as he moved to sit on the edge of the bed, slumped over his knees with his head in his hands. For one brief, fleeting moment Dean tried to deny that anything had happened last night. But in retaliation his mind saw fit to flash every graphic detail of what had happened before his clenched eyes. _Oh God!_ Dean's hands ran to the back of his head as he tried to take a few deep breaths to stay off the freak out he was about to have. _When I find that bitch I'm gonna kill her!_ Dean thought, already plotting vengeance in his mind of a thousand ways for her to die! He wasn't looking forward to when Sammy woke up and they had to talk about…this now that it was over. Dean mentally shuttered and groaned, already disgusted with the idea of talking to Sam. No one should ever have to have this kind of conversation with their brother. Have to….sort something like this out so they could pretend to be normal. But then again, Sam and Dean had never been normal, but this….

While staring at the aged carpet, he noticed through the bundled edge of sheet on his waist that his down stairs brain was up and "thinking" too. _Goddamn it!_ He cursed mentally at his penis as he tried to will it away. Now was not the time for Mr. Happy to put in his two cents. But it wouldn't go away. He tried to think of everything but it just wouldn't go away.

Behind him the bed shifted and a mumble was heard. Dean turned around to see if Sam was wake now, a thought that probably should have terrified him, but the feeling he felt was not fear. Sam was not awake but nearly close. He groaned lightly as sun light invaded the darkness behind his eyes. His head thrashed to the opposite side to keep it away, but soon arched his back in an effort to stretch out the kinks and licked his dry lips that sleep had given him after finding it had abandoned him. All completely innocent, normal moves that Dean had probably seen his brother do a thousand million times and never thought of, but today was not that day. Today, Dean seemed to notice everything about Sam.

"Oh God…" Dean said quietly, almost like a whimper, as he turned back around and braced himself on his knees to try and regulate his breathing. The older Winchester grit his teeth as warmth shot down his spine as he heard Sam unconsciously moan in his fleeting sleep. Dean shot up from the bed and all but sprinted into the bathroom, slamming the door.

He slumped against the plywood door, thankful that the cheap material could hold his weight. He panted aggressively as he looked around confused and afraid. It wasn't gone. It wasn't over. Those feelings…what that bitch did to them, it wasn't over. It wasn't as strong as it was last night, but still burning inside him and wouldn't go away. Telling him to go back into the other room and…_No!_ Dean thought angrily and banged his head against the flimsy door. No, he was stronger than this! He could fight this now! The hold wasn't blinding like last night. He wasn't going to do…that to Sam again. He wasn't gonna hurt Sam like that. Not his Sam, never his Sammy.

Dean looked around with a sense of purpose and practically threw himself off the door and over to the tub. He turned the shower on frost bite cold and stepped in, regardless of the pain. He had to take the edge off. He couldn't fight this like he was, all hot, horny, and hard enough to beat the band. When his back had become partially numb from standing under the spray, arms stretched out to brace himself against the tile as he tried to focus his breathing, Dean opened his eyes and sneered in disgusted. "Aw come on!" This wasn't working either. His dick just continued to stand, long and hard, unabashed by the cold or his owners wants and needs. It was starting to become painful too. That color was probably not a good color for it to be. "Son of a bitch!" Dean cursed angrily before straightening up and wrapping a firm hand around himself. He groaned shamefully as he started to jerk himself aggressively under the icy spray. This must be what being on ecstasy was like. Everything he felt, everything he breathed, everything he thought shot waves of pleasure up and down his body. Masturbation hadn't felt this good since he'd found out about it those eighteen some odd years ago.

Dean moaned again, louder this time, and fell to his knees unable to remain standing as another burst of heat coursed through him. Behind his eyes, he tried admirably to picture some blonde and busty co-ed. But as soon as she came into focus she would start to turn. First into a blonde guy, which didn't really freak him out. He could appreciate attractiveness in all forms and had on occasion indulged in the idea secretly about trying it with another man. Then it would change into a brunette man. He would grow taller, stronger. And eventually it would be Sam. Dean moaned as the picture in his head became his younger brother again and finally just gave up and began jerking himself off faster to Sam's face. He felt bad, like he was tainting his little brother somehow, but he rationalized that this was better than doing all the things that his mind offered up for his viewing pleasure and God if it didn't feel good.

His cock was leaking pre-cum something fierce, lathering up the motion of his hand so that it pistoled like a well-oiled machine. He was moaning like a whore the entire time, probably too loud, but he didn't care. All the mattered right now was the intense pleasure we was feeling and how close he was too the edge. He felt like the was suspended there for hours before he finally fell. A few more tugs and Dean's head fell back with a great moan as his cum splattered over the tub bottom and sides.

He sat there for a minute, on his knees panting with his head pressed against the cold tiles that felt wonderful against his flushed face. This wasn't as intense as his orgasms from last night, but it was definitely in his life time top ten. The water was becoming painfully cold to him now. So with a limp arm he turned it off. He stay there for another moment before begrudgingly pulling himself up out of the tub and drying off. He felt better, he guessed…Granted, the edge had been taken off but he knew somewhere inside him that this was far from over. He and Sam were going to have to figure this out soon before something awful happened. Well, more awful than what had already happened….

Wrapping the towel in his hands around his waist, Dean exited the bathroom with full intention of putting clothes on and mentally prepping himself to fight this thing for the rest of the day. He made it out the door and two whole steps before that plan went completely out the window. "Dean…" Sam looked at his brother with shocked, lust blown eyes, his face flushed with embarrassment and arouse as he was caught with his hand around his cock. "….I…I heard you…and I couldn't…." Sam stammered to explain, but just looked at his big brother with pleading eyes as if begging him to understand.

Dean understood. He could feel it too. He couldn't fight it either. Which was why he hoped and prayed that Sammy didn't hate him and understood when he dropped his towel and pounced on him.

* * *

_Yay new chapter! Sorry it isn't as long as the last one. The next one should **hopefully** be up sooner. Reviews and feedback would be greatly appreciated! ^_^_


	3. Chapter 3

_I __**hate**__ hurricane season! School got shut down, the power went out at least four times, and had to deal with all of the freaked out freshman who don't know that this happens almost every year! Great way to start off your first week of school! I'm really considering transferring to one of those square states…._

_Anyway, sorry for the delay. I wish I could say that this isn't going to happen in the future but with school being shut down all of my classes are trying to play catch up which means more work for me (yay….not). I will try to update as soon as I can as often as I can and ask that you please be patient with me. Thank you very much! (Hops off stool and gets on with the story)._

_

* * *

_

They dress in silence, as if pretending the other wasn't there. Dean winces a little when the soft cotton of his shirt glides over the fresh scratches from blunt nails down his back and when moving his arms aggravates the love bites on his shoulders and chest. It's not as much as Sam though, who has to clench his teeth and hold his breath when he pulls his pants on. It appeared that sex was very much like fighting for the Winchester brothers. A display of brute strength, cranial power, and force that usually ended up in one of them getting hurt. But it wasn't physical pain that hurt them the most; it was the fact that it didn't hurt that was doing it.

In the span of a few hours that Dean had exited the shower, the brothers had had sex. Twice in fact. Though they hadn't really spoken to each other outside of sex crazed jargon, they still knew each other enough to know that that was what they were both feeling. It was during this time both brother's came to the personal conclusion that they didn't hate it like they should but that they actually….enjoyed it. That was what hurt more than the scrapes and bites and sore muscles. It was one thing to be forced to do this. Being forced against your will was something they could deal with. Having no control meant that they couldn't do anything about it, that they had to do it, which ultimately meant no responsibility. But to actually enjoying it, wanting more of it, literally begging your brother for a touch, for release, was a completely different story. Forced or not, enjoy sex you're your brother put this on a whole new level that they weren't prepared to deal with.

The whole time they were getting dressed Dean refused to look at Sam. It wasn't because he was angry or disgusted with Sam; Dean just wasn't taking any chances by even look at Sam anymore. The mere sight of his younger brother sent chills down his spine, making him want to touch him, to kiss him, to fuck him. Dean closed his eyes and bit the inside of his lip hard enough to draw blood. He couldn't think of that. His mind was against him now and apparently had a very over active imagination when it came to Sam in its current state. "Sam…I think we should spilt up until we find Lust."

"What?" Sam asked, head snapping up from staring at his lap from the edge of the bed so his wide green locked onto the back of his brother's head.

"We can cover more ground if we're separated. And….I think it's the only way we can stop from doing this." Dean said in a heavy, serious tone he reserved for only the gravest of situations, pretending not to notice the slight tremor of fear and disbelief in Sam's voice. He had to be reasonable here, the responsible one. It was the best thing for both of them.

"Oh…okay…" Sam said and turned back to staring at his lap dejectedly.

Dean wanted to leave? But Dean couldn't leave! He was his brother. He needed him! This wasn't the spell talking either. Sam always knew he needed Dean. Everyone thought that it was the other way around, that Dean needed Sam, but that wasn't true. Sam needed him for everything, well only recently _**everything**_. Dean was the one consistent in his life, the one thing that never ever changed or left him, even when Sam pushed him away. It was like Dean was a part of him and he couldn't lose Dean. It would be like losing his arm or a piece of his soul. He'd be lost, incomplete.

"Come on Sam, don't be like that." The older Winchester pleaded trying to repress the need to comfort his brother and make that hurt look go away. He couldn't be trusted to comfort Sam right now and it was killing him. Maybe that was what hurt Dean the most about this whole situation. Not the sex, not these feelings, but the fact that he couldn't help Sam. Sam was his everything and he couldn't do anything to protect him from this, from himself. "You know this is the only way we can fix this. We can't be around each other Sam. Look at us man! I can't….I can't control myself with you around." _I can't stop myself from hurting you. I can't stop myself from giving in. _"So for the time being we just have to stay away from each other 'til we get this shit fixed. Ok?"

"Yeah, ok." The way Sam responds is mechanical and forced. Dean knows that tone. It was the same way he responded when their Dad would show up and tell them that they were moving again. Sam had always argued at first, wanted to stay and make friends and a home, but after they had lost count of how many times that never happened he would just start saying that. So when Sam Winchester said '_Yeah, ok' _in that tone, it really meant _'Yeah, ok. I fucking hate you.'_ And Dean, knowing that that's what Sam wanted to say but never would, ate him up inside.

Dean reaches out a hand towards Sam, but stops midway. He wants to comfort Sam, he does, but he can't risk it. He can't risk were it will lead them again. Instead, Dean clenches his eyes and hand into a fist. He lunches forward and storms for and out of the door, sparing only a second to grab his jacket.

This Podunk town in the middle of North Dakota was cold this time of year. Dean welcomed it. He wanted it to be cold. He was too hot, too warm all the time now from the blood pumping fiercely in his veins. His breathing came out in small white puffs as he briskly walked to the Impala with every intention of getting away from Sam and finding that fucking cunt as fast as he could. He just had to get away from Sam. Everything would be alright if he just got away from Sam.

Dean made it two parked cars away from his precious car before it happened. The world turned a complete forty five degrees out of nowhere and pitched Dean for a loop. Dean stumbled and fell against the outer wall of some other couples room to catch himself. He slid down the wall and onto the ground, his legs unable to support his own weight. He couldn't stand up, felt like he was going to vomit. He cried out as his head suddenly erupted in a fierce headache and his stomach felt like it was being stabbed with white hot pokers. He was in so much pain so fast that he couldn't cope. What was happening to him? Something was wrong, very wrong.

_Dean!_

Dean looked around through the pain at the sound of his name. "Sam…?"

_Oh God, Dean!_

There was no denying it. Dean would know that voice anywhere. It was Sam's. And he was in pain. "Sam!" Through sheer force of will, Dean got up on his knees and by some miracle from above managed to stand, though shakily, on his feet. The oldest Winchester stumbled and swayed, palming the concrete wall for support as he moved back towards his room. All he kept thinking was '_he had to get back to Sam. Sam needed him. He needed to be with Sam.'_ Funny how only a few moments ago he had committed himself to the complete opposite.

When Dean got to their room door it flew open and smacked against the wall with a loud bang; the cheap ply wood shuttering at the abuse of almost being ripped off its hinges. Across the room Sam looked up at Dean from where he had tucked his head into himself from his fetal position on the bed. His arms were wrapped tightly around his mid-section, sweat dotted his brow, and those normally expressive eyes all but screamed _'please help me! I'm in so much pain!'_ This was actually good because the only thing that Sam could choke out was "Dean…." before he doubled back into himself and groaned loudly in pain.

The older Winchester was across the room in the blink of an eye, almost before the sound of the door being slammed back shut resonated through the room. "It's ok Sammy, I'm here. Everything is gonna be ok." Dean muttered in a soothing tone, ignoring his own serious pain, holding Sam close to him and rocking him a little in an attempt to be comforting.

"God Dean, what…what's happening?" Sam's words brushed against Dean's neck in a warm rush from where his head lay tucked under his brother's chin. His second growl of pain was muffled by Dean's cotton T-shirt as his face was pressed tighter to his chest.

Dean didn't know what to say. He didn't know what was going on, what to do, how to fix this. So, he did the only thing he knew he could do. He held Sam close, twining long legs with his own, and kissed the top of his head. Dean had done this a thousand times when they were younger. Little Sammy would have a nightmare and Big Brother Dean would climb into his bed, if they weren't already sharing, and hold him tight to keep Sammy safe until he fell back asleep. He hadn't done it since Sam was ten. Sammy adamant that he didn't need Dean to take care of him, but it had always worked then.

Surprisingly enough, it was working now. Not just for Sam either. The moment that Dean's lips made contact with Sam's soft hair, the pain subsided a little. Dean did it again, a little lower to kiss the taller brunette's sweat damp brow, and it subsided a little more. Sam stopped squirming in pain in his arm and just laid there in a little ball against him. His eyes flickered up, no longer with pin prick pupils of pain, but slowly returning to normal green eyes. He looked a little confused. As to why Dean could only guess, he had a running list in both alphabetical and chronological order as to why he was confused recently. Sam's head seemed to metaphorically tilt before he uncurled himself in Dean's arms and kissed his brother full on the lips.

Dean let himself be kissed for a moment, being lost for a bit in the feel of the soft, gentle kiss, before he jerked away from Sam. "Sam, no, we can't-"It doesn't hurt anymore." Dean's tangent about this being wrong stopped at Sam's interjection. "You came back and it stopped. It doesn't hurt anymore." The younger brother clarified, though his words held a slight questioning inflection of _why_.

Dean paused and just seemed to notice that the pain had in fact stopped. Dean mentally sighed in defeat as the reality of this sunk in. It was then that Dean realized that it wasn't some miracle that he was able to get back to Sam. It was a curse. He couldn't stop himself from wanting Sam and he couldn't leave to stop himself from doing anything about it. They were trapped together, metaphorically speaking, and unable to leave the other's side for more than, how far had he made it, a couple car lengths.

"It's gonna be ok Sammy. We'll figure this out."

"It's Sam. So you're not going to leave?" Sam's query seemed redundant, but held an underlining of hopeful. Dean sighed again and shook his head.

"No, couldn't if I wanted to."

"But you want to?" The question was more of a statement from Sam and though flat and monotone had a foundation of hurt that Dean wanted to leave but couldn't, which made it worse than him actually leaving.

Dean closed his eyes and buried his face under Sam's chin this time, sighing for the third time in under ten minutes. "No, I don't want to leave Sam. It's just….I can't deal with this right now. Can we drop it?" Dean's question was also not a question. It was more of a command. He wasn't talking about this anymore, end of discussion, and he was thankful that Sam just let it drop.

* * *

_Sorry no sexy time this time. There will be smut next time! :) Reviews and feedback would be greatly appreciated! ^_^_


	4. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural. It saddens me every time._

_

* * *

_

_Come on! Pick up the phone, pick up the phone!_ "Hello,"

"Bobby! It's Dean." The eldest Winchester had to repress the sigh of relief that passed through him. Thankful that Bobby had picked up on the first try.

"Yeah Dean, I got that from the caller ID. So what do I owe the honor?" The older man drawled through the phone.

"We need your help." Dean said, stopping his pacing on the aged carpet to sit on the edge of the bed.

"I figured as much. 'Bout the only time either one of you ever calls," the tiniest bit of a disgruntled tone laced Bobby's voice. Dean made a mental note to call him more often, just to see how he was doing. "Whatca boys need?"

"We got a serious problem Bobby. Last night we ran into an old _friend_. Lust somehow dragged her ass out of hell."

"What?" The clatter of something being dropped on the floored echoing through the line, "You mean _the _Lust? Seven deadly sins Lust?" Bobby asked in exasperation.

"The one and the same, and hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. She did somethin' to us Bobby. We can stop…doin' stuff." Dean explained, feeling impossibly awkward talking to the man that held the position of father figure in his life.

"Aw goddamn it boys! How the hell did you let her get so close to you?" The older man chastised.

"I know, I know." Dean moaned as he rubbed his face in emotional fatigue, "I screwed up Bobby. But look now we're like this and it's practically impossible to _STOP_-!" Dean jumped as a set of teeth started nibbling at the back of his neck gently.

"What the hell was that?" Bobby asked and Dean could practically hear the eyebrow arch at the unmanly inflection his voice just took.

"Nothing! A…A spider fell off the ceiling on my leg. Stupid motels need to spray for pest more." Dean flinched away from the crouched man behind him and swatted at Sam as he tried to tease his neck again. He turned partially around and pointed a finger at him, giving him a serious look that one would give children, to silently telling him _'No!'_

Sam looked down at his knees, the hint of a possible pout on his lips, as Dean turned back around. He had missed part of what Bobby had been saying, but was sure it was something about him being a girl or having girl parts for being afraid of a little bug. He focused back in on the important part.

"…sounds like she cursed you like the others did when they were free. Sloth with that family, Envy with that girl, Gluttony with Isaac, God rest his soul."

"So how do we fix this Bobby?" Dean questioned. The bed shifted gently behind him and Dean felt a warm body pressed against his back. He should have probably jerked away again, pushed Sam away, but it felt…nice. Not like the erotic "nice" that he had been feeling whenever Sam touched him recently, but good, comforting almost. Which was why, he told himself, that he didn't push Sam away when he wrapped his arms around his midsection, or when he nuzzled against his neck, or when Dean felt him press soft kisses on his neck.

"Boy is you listenin'?" Dean snapped out of his dazed stupor as Bobby's voice rang out through the receiver.

"Sorry Bobby, whatca say?" Dean asked repressing a breathy sigh half way through its escape as tiny licks and soft bites joined the delicate kisses on his neck.

"Well you think you might want to take the time to listen to me _considerin'_ the _situation_?" Bobby said, a little miffed over being ignored. "I said the only way I can think of to get rid of this is to exorcise Lust and send her back to hell. That girl near Lincoln who beat that other woman to death for those shoes turned back to normal after Envy was gone."

Dean just hummed in understanding, not trusting himself to not moan if he opened his mouth. The kisses we're getting more aggressive, straying from nice and sweet to erotic and tempting very quickly. He gasped quietly and had to bite his lip hard when Sam found a particularly sensitive spot behind his ear. "Aw goddamnit Sam, not there! Can you please just go somewhere else?" Dean said in a whispered hissed back at his brother, one hand over the receiver to keep Bobby from hearing. It was getting harder and harder not to hang up the phone and fuck his little brother senseless. Goddamnit! It was already fucking hard to not do that "normally" now. Sam didn't need to add to it!

Dean sighed in relief when Sam did as he was told. If he had seen the smirk that graced the man's face he wouldn't have felt so relieved.

The older Winchester flopped back onto the bed now that there wasn't a body behind him. Covering his eyes to block out all visual distraction Dean focused completely on the phone in his hand as Bobby put him on hold to go look up something real quick that could be of use. He tried to count backwards from ten, then twenty, then one hundred in an attempt to dissipate the lingering warmth and feeling of his Sammy being pressed against his back and lavishing him with soft affectionate kisses. Had Dean been thinking properly he probably should have realized that he shouldn't let his guard down so quickly.

By the time he realized his mistake it was too late.

People often disregarded Sam's stealthiness. It was often assumed that the younger Winchester was too large and lanky to be stealthy. Dean was being reminded rather suddenly that that was definitely _not_ the case. Because one minute he almost forgot that Sammy was even in the room and the next the younger man suddenly appeared between his knees and was mouthing his clothed crotch.

Dean thanked God that Bobby had put the phone down. It would have been really awkward if he had moaned right into the louder man's ear through the phone. Loudly. He couldn't stop it though, the shock of warm, moist breath filtering through the fabric of his jeans had taken him by surprise and he didn't have time to react. A hot agile tongue pets his cock through the rough denim, creating this odd friction between cool roughness and scorching soft. It was driving Dean crazy. He was literally going mad. At least that's what he told himself when he didn't stop Sam, but moved his hips up slightly against that hot mouth in silent encouragement to do more. His Sammy, always being a clever one, took the hint. With nimble finger Sam undid the fly of his jeans and pulled them down just far enough to expose the black fabric of his boxer briefs, stretched tight over his hard cock. Those large fingers reached into the slit in the front and pulled it free. Dean moaned a breathy, "Uh…Sam…." when it bobbed free and Sam smirked up at him in some sort of gentle way. "Shh…you're still on the phone." Sam whispered, the hot air from the hushing sound and words making Dean and his dick squirm. With Sam's hands on his hips and his jeans still on immobilizing his legs it was all Dean could really do. Touché Sammy, touché.

It feels good. Really good. Better than how it normally feels to have his dick sucked. _Sammy's really good._ Dean thinks to himself behind closed eyes and soft moans, and he's pretty sure it's not just the spell talking. His little brother knows just when to suck, when to pull back, and when to take him all the way in. This surprises Dean the most because he's not a small guy by any means and some girls who have been sucking cock for years have had trouble taking him all the way in. It always a rare treat for him when he finds someone who can do it, but something about Sam, _his_ Sammy, doing it makes it extra special. It's a thought that makes Dean jerk in disgust a little. He shouldn't think these things about Sam. He shouldn't think words like special, good, amazing, and love this when Sam's doing this. It's bad enough that they can't stop…doing stuff like this. He shouldn't enjoy it so damn much, shouldn't make it so personal.

Just as Dean is about to get completely lost in the heat and feelings the whole experience brings, Bobby's voice is back in his ear. "Alright, I think I found somethin' that can help. It's a locator spell, might help you track Lust down. I'm pretty sure you can just follow the trail of lust crazed psychos though, no offense Dean."

Dean hummed in understanding through a clenched jaw, surprised it didn't break from the strain. He was terrified that if he opened his mouth filthy words of encouragement would spill out of his mouth, or worse, he'd just moan like a whore from through the phone. Dean was so focused on trying to make this conversation less awkward that he almost missed Bobby's sigh on the other end.

"Dean are you with some girl while you talkin' on the phone with me?" Dean quirked a brow, looked down the length of his body, and gave an awkward shrug at the question.

"N-No, nuh-uh, no way," Dean groaned little at how stupid that sounded, but goddamnit it was hard to think when so were getting your dick sucked! Let alone when you were getting you're dick sucked by an amazing mouth of a person who at this current place in time you had an agonizing need to fuck almost constantly! Dean was lucky to still be breathing properly at this current moment, never mind string a moderately coherent sentence.

"Whatever Dean, I honestly don't want to know. If you boys can figure out a way to get through this without killin' yourselves or knockin' some poor girl up, more power to ya. Just…try to be careful and at least _try_ to fight this thing." Bobby warned.

"We've been tryin' Bobby." Dean almost swallowed his tongue as Sam took him deep in the back of his throat again. Almost bit through his hand in an attempt to keep quiet.

"Well you think you could try a little _harder_. I'll call you if I find anything else that could be of use. You boys take care of yourselves."

"Yeah Bobby, o-ok." Dean was pretty sure he heard a muttered _'idgit' _on the other line before a quiet click sounded signaling that Bobby had hung up. "Holy fucking shit!" Dean screamed practically at the top of his lungs, back and hips arching off the bed as he came hot down Sammy's throat. To the younger man's credit he only choked up a little. And when his brother was finally done, he sat back, rubbed his numb lips with the back of his hand to try and get some feeling back in them, and looked at Dean kind of in that way he did when he was about to ask them _'where are we going next?'_

"New rule," Dean said, voice still stuttered with pants as he tried to regain the breath Sam had taken way, and lifted a tired hand with his index finger raised. "If we're going have to stick together through this, you can't do that when I'm on the phone."

"You didn't seem to have a problem with it 30 seconds ago." Sam mocked and Dean tilted his head off the mattress to glare at him.

"I mean it Sam! That's not cool! This is already bad enough! We don't need people finding out about…this!" Dean chastised.

"I know, but…." Sam cut himself off and did one of his best kicked puppy looks, "I'm sorry."

Dean sighed and sat up. He cupped the side of Sam's face and turned him to look up at him from where he still sat between his knees looking dejected. "Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you. It's just….still is weird Sam. Even for us. If people found out they…they wouldn't understand." Dean said gently. "It's not like anyone would believe us if we told them the demon of Lust put some kind of spell on us to make us do this, right?" He added, trying to make it sound more like a jest, the previous words sounding far too real and close to something he didn't want to say. The word personal comes to mind again.

Sam nods. "I know Dean. I…I'll try harder." He says, reverting back to back to his seven year old self when Dean had first started to train him to protect himself. Dean had never been as proud as when he saw that Sammy was finally getting it and one day, thanks to him, Sammy would be able to come along with him and Dad. But that didn't matter, because he would always protect Sam. They would fight evil together as a family. Just the three of them. And they'd be happy.

_Humph, stupid kid dreams._ Dean thought as stood from the bed, shifting passed Sam who still sat on his knees, fixing his pants back. "Come on Sam, let's pack it up. We're wasting daylight." He said in a harsh authoritative tone, angry at the situation all over again. Dreams were for suckers anyway.

* * *

_Thank you everyone soooo much for all of the reviews, faves, and adds that this story has gotten. I am truly humbled and fantastically exstatic that everyone seems to be enjoying it so much. Thank you, thank you, thank you! I hope everyone enjoys the new chapter and the next should be up soon. As always reviews, comments, questions, and concerns are welcome! ^_^_


	5. Chapter 5

_Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or the Winchester boys. Sad day..._

* * *

"Hey Sam, I got a question." From the back of the Impala a mop of brown hair perked up and hazel eyes looked questioningly at the back of his brother's head. They had been driving for several hours now, nine to be exact, stopping now and then in towns they passed through to see if Lust had done her dirty work there as well and to alleviate some…stress.

Back in the motel, the space between them had been somewhat comfortable and gave them both a chance to gain an adequate distance from one another to stay off certain urges. In the small space of the Impala, however, it was maddening. Having the other so close yet so far away, being constantly aware of the others presence that it was almost palpable, had both of them on edge. It was why Sam had been 'banished' to the back seat of the car.

In the first few hours behind the wheel Dean had almost ran the car off the road numerous times; either from staring at Sam in longing, or him catching Sam doing it, or from both their hands finding their way into some compromising areas with neither of them sure how they got there. Dean hadn't been complaining about how their bodies seemed to have minds of their own, especially when Sam's decided to palm his crotch through his jeans or rub his thigh sensually, until he had almost ran off the road and into a fence post. So for their safety, and his baby's, Dean had told Sam at the last gas station after they had filled up, stocked up, and zipped up that it might be best for Sam to relocate and create some illusion of personal space in the car.

Now that he was up here by himself though, he was kind of lonely. Sam always rode shoot gun. That was his spot. The seat practically had an imprint of Sam's ass in it from where he sat there day in and day out. It killed Dean a little on the inside when he would look over to ask Sam something and he wasn't there. Just one more thing this bitch had ruined for them.

"Yeah Dean?" Sam asked curiously from the back.

"I was wonderin', how did…I mean how….when…Aw goddamn it, how did you get so good at suckin' cock?" Dean finally blurted out and blushing at the blunt, provocative question. He shouldn't have asked, but it had been bugging him since the first time Sam took his cock in his mouth. He was pretty sure that it wasn't the curse. He doubted that he suddenly had magic cock sucking skills, so where did it come from?

Sam blushed five times as red and began to fidget in his seat uncomfortably.

"Oh…um…it…it was back at Stanford." He admitted nervously. Sam had hoped to never have to tell anyone this sordid bit of information to anyone, especially Dean. He had always wanted his brother's approval and admiration. God only knew how he would react if he found out that little Sammy sucked dick like a back alley whore for almost a year.

"Seriously? What about Jessica?"

"It was before Jessica. It was my freshman year."

"You were gay your freshman year?"

"No, my roommate was."

"Wait, what?" Dean furrowed his brow back at Sam through the rearview and Sam sighed audibly from the back.

"My freshman year was…rough. Dad kicked me out, wouldn't talk to me. You barely spoke to me because you were scared Dad would find out or were too busy pullin' a job. I was…lonely I guess. New school, new town, and it's not like I had plans to move in a month like we always had. It was a whole new experience for me. I got really close with my roommate Brian. We did almost everything together; studied, ate, played video games, went to parties. I'd never been a hard drinker until then and I guess since I was kind of depressed about everything I let myself get stupid a lot. It got to the point that I was getting blitz almost twice a week and when I was drunk Brain….suggested thing. We never had sex, at least I don't think so, but _that_ stuff yeah that happened a lot." Sam said evenly, with an immense calm that surprised him.

From behind the steering wheel, Dean was not so calm. Somewhere in the back of his mind he was a little concerned that he was going to break the wheel with how hard he was gripping it. But in the forefront was white hot rage. "Damn it Sam! Why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you stop him?" Dean yelled, having to remember that he couldn't turn around to yell because he was driving.

Someone had touched his Sammy. _His_ Sammy! No one else's! Someone had taken advantage of his brother's gentle, friendly nature and happy drunk disposition and used it against him, _his_ Sam. Somewhere on the list of things Dean wanted to do before he died he added kill Brian…whoever for ever having the gull, no the _audacity_, to touch, to _use,_ _his _Sammy like that; like he was some cheap whore. His Sam was no cheap whore; he was no one's whore! He was his Sammy damnit!

"Well me being smashed and not wanting to lose my almost only friend I went along. It's not like it was all bad. I mean, it felt good. The reciprocation on my part kind of sucked at first, no pun intended, but the rest of it was good. The kissing wasn't that great though. I was usually too drunk to do it right."

"He kissed you!" Dean did whip around for a second at that one. Oh, this bastard was going to pay! Dean realized that he shouldn't be so mad about kissing. That on the grand scale it was small compared to blow jobs and possible fucking, but to him it wasn't. Kissing made it personal, made it intimate, and for Dean to think of Sam kissing anyone else made him almost physically ill. Sam's kisses were for _him_ damnit! Because Sam was _his_ and no one else's!

Dean screwed his eyes shut and shook his head, he tried to right his brain into thinking rational thought. Stupid curse putting thought and feelings in his head!

Wait. He wasn't…jealous was he? No! He had no right to be jealous. Sam wasn't his, no matter what his anger, curse induced brain thought. Well…he was, kind of. Sam was his brother. He was his to protect, to foster, to love, but in a brotherly sense of the word of course. He didn't own Sam. Sam could be with whoever he wanted, whenever he wanted. Hell Dean took that liberty more often than Sam did and Sam wasn't jealous. Was he? No! It's not like they were together or anything. This was just the curse. He wasn't jealous! He just wanted to kill this guy for taking advantage of Sammy. That was all. It had nothing to do with him touching Sam or him kissing Sam or him _being_ with Sam. No never!

"So what happened to him?" _Did he fall of a cliff? Get hit by a car? Have his dick fall off by some gross flesh eating virus?_

"He stopped asking not long after spring semester started."

"Why did he get bored with you?" Dean asked, but scoffed mentally at the question. Who would ever get bored with Sam? He was so full of life, so enigmatic, so...everything. Dean had been with him for his entire life mostly, and he never tired of being around Sam. '_Goddamnit! Stupid curse is turning me into some sappy girl!'_ Dean cursed venomously as these "girly" thoughts raced through his head about how Sammy was so wonderful and perfect and hot and sexy and '_Goddamnit!'_

"No, I mean…I don't know. The last time it happened I was pretty fucked up and I'm not really sure what happened, but….I think I said the wrong name." Dean laughed out loud at Sam's confession.

"Ahahahaha! So what happened? Did you moan so chick's name when he was giving you head?" Served the bastard right!

"I don't know, like I said I was really fucked up."

"So how do you know you did it?" Dean questioned.

"He told me. Look, Dean, I really don't want to talk about this with you. Can we just drop it please?" Sam said fidgeting nervously in the back seat with a visible blush staining his cheeks.

Well…maybe only half nervous.

Because on closer inspection through the rearview Dean noticed that Sam's story time had had an interesting effect on the younger Winchester. Now that Dean thought about it, blotting out the douche antagonist, so was he. "What's the matter Sammy? Is this story _hard_ for you to tell?"

"Shut up Dean." Sam muttered up from the back.

"It's just a simple question Sam. Are you having a _hard_ time thinking about all the dick you used to suck back in college?"

"Dean…" Sam's voice was low and held a warning. But Dean did not heed.

"No, come on Sam, tell me. Are you getting all hot and bothered thinking about all that stuff you did with that guy? Is it making you hard Sammy? Cause I am." Dean wasn't sure where these words were coming from. It was like his mouth was moving on its own and these filthy things just kept tumbling out in this heated tone that Dean usually reversed for women behind bars or in skank motel rooms.

"Dean…." This time Dean's name was said in a harsh gasp instead of a harsh scold that filled up the car with heat from the back. In the front, Dean smirked. Where ever these words were coming from, Sam seemed to like it. And Dean, being the good big brother who never wanted to deny his little brother anything he enjoyed, kept talk as his lips continued to have a mind of their own.

"Am I right Sammy? I am aren't I. You don't have to say it. I can see your hard on from here. Fuck I could probably see it from outer space! I got another question Sammy. Who are you thinkin' about back there while you're playin' pocket pool back there hn? Is it me? Am I the one that you're thinking about blowing instead of some fuckin' nobody who wouldn't have a chance with someone like you unless they got you drunk to even the odds? Tell me Sam, who fucks you better? Whose name do you want to be screaming when you come? Who's the person you're jerking off to through your pants right now while I'm talking to you?"

"Dean!" Sam cried out loudly and his head fell forward against the back of the front seats, panting as his hand massaged the front of his jeans roughly. The friction from the rough denim through his boxer brief driving him crazy.

"That's what I thought." Dean said and with a sharp jerk of the wheel an angry cloud of gravel and dust kicked up from the side of the road at having been disturbed so suddenly.

Sam's head popped up from the leather seats, lust drunk eyes looking around confused as to what was going on. He barely registered a pair of doors opening and closing quickly before Dean had seemingly materialized beside him in the back, hands were gripped the side of Sam's face as Dean's tongue was shoved down his throat in a furiously passionate kiss. Whatever was going on Sam didn't care anymore. All that matter was clinging back on to Dean like Dean clung to him, hands gripping at body parts and clothes, his tongue trying to gain purchase in Dean's mouth like Dean's had found in his, the tormenting grind of his pelvis against Dean's as their cocks rubbed against each other through their jeans in failing attempt to relieve some of the pressure. Nothing else matter. Only this did. Only this feeling of intense need and Dean was all that existed of the world in Sam's mind. What a blissful, agonizing world it had become.

It wasn't long before kissing and groping wasn't enough for the lust crazed boys, and clothes were being moved or removed in order to gain more purchase on skin and bodily contact.

"You like that Sammy?" Dean said in a heated pant against the column of Sam's neck where he had just licked as one hand pushed Sam's undershirt up to his clavicle and the other tormented a hard nipple that blemished the younger Winchester's perfectly smooth chest. The sinful arch that Sam did in response was enough of an answer to tell Dean 'yes', but that wasn't good enough. "Come on Sam. You have to tell me. If you don't tell me if you like it then how do I know to keep doing it?" Dean asked wickedly, switching to the other dusty pebble as if to prove a point.

Sam's back bowed again and his mouth fell open with a moan as he cried, "God Dean! Yes! Yes, I like it! Ok? Just don't stop!"

"So demanding Sammy is today. Maybe I should give you a spanking like I did when you were little and threw temper tantrums?" Dean suggested, before laving Sam's hard chest with his tongue.

"It….It's Sam, and don't even think about _it!_" Sam's warning was cut off with something a keen to a moan mixed with a sort of squeak as Dean's hand had somehow managed to make its way passed his jeans and briefs without being detected.

While one hand stroked Sam's cock in an almost painfully slow, gentle stroke and the other busied itself with caressing Sam's partially exposed body, Dean sat back on his haunches and thought critically while he stared lustfully at the brunette's expressive reactions. They had to have sex. They had to have sex _now!_ So much for rule number three on the list of 'acceptable-things-to-do-while-cursed-to-want-to-constantly-fuck-your-brother' that Dean and Sam had agreed upon before leaving the motel. Oh, well, straying from only giving each other blow jobs and handys just this once was going to kill anyone right?

But back to the matter at hand of Dean needed to fuck Sam right now.

Dean had had sex in the Impala before, but not often. The Impala was sacred. You didn't have sex in a church, so why you have sex all willy-nilly in the black metal sanctuary. That would be sacrilege! Also, it was kind of hard to pull off. For all that Dean loved about his baby, from her chrome bumpers to the lint crushed into the floor board carpeting, she wasn't much for excess space. It was a challenge to maneuver himself and whatever bimbo he had seduced into the back into a comfortable position that allowed for both of them to achieve the maximum amount to pleasure. Let it never be said that Dean Winchester was not a gracious, generous lover. For all of his conquest, he took his role as "provider" very seriously and treated each one like they were the only one for that moment in time.

In this present moment, however, Dean was having a serious problem figured how to pull this off. Sam was by no means the same as a petite girl, or even a regular girl, that Dean was used to dealing with. He was all man, all limbs, and all sorts of tall that made it impossible for him to even sit in the car sometimes let alone stretch out in any way. _This is gonna be a challenge,_ Dean thought. But Dean Winchester was never one to turn down a challenge.

Thinking for a moment longer before his face blossomed into a devious smirk, Dean leaned over the younger man's body until he hovered mere centimeters from the other's body; just enough space to make them both hyper aware of the other and drive them both crazy with the lack of actual touch.

"Sam, hey Sammy, turn over for me ok." Sam's eyes opened heavily and looked at Dean through a fuzzy haze before he did what he was told. He was too gone to question. Too much in need to wonder what was going to happen to him. All he knew was that whatever it was it was going to be good. "That's it, good Sammy. I need you to roll down the window ok. Don't want you to bash your head against it when I'm fucking you like this." Dean said, a low chuckled rumbling through his chest, hands never having left Sam even as he moved carefully into a position on all fours.

Sam moaned low, both from the continued gentle touching and the sinuous words spoke near his ear. Blindly he did what he was told. The cold early March air bringing the inside of the car down a few degrees, but doing nothing to sate the heat between the boys.

"God, Sam. You're so fucking hot right now. I bet you'd do anything have my cock in you right now, wouldn't you? Probably so close you can't even see straight." Dean felt a shutter pass through him that matched Sam's as these words left his mouth. He couldn't stop them and he really didn't want to. It really was fucking hot. Seeing Sam's reaction to him, the way he brought him to his knees, so to speak. Later Dean would blame it all on the curse. After all, he had never been a big talker during sex before. This just had to do what was between him and Sam.

"Dean…." And later, when Sam thought about this, he would blame the curse for whine that escaped him that urged Dean to hurry up. After all, Sam had never begged for sex before, let alone begged to be fucked hard up the ass. This just had to do what was between him and Dean.

"There, there Sammy, it's ok. I'll take care of you. I always take care of you don't I?" Dean asked, sounding far too cocky for Sam, and he would have glared over his shoulder at him had he not been pressed against Sam's back and nipping those straight, white teeth against the back of his neck.

"It…It's S-Sam…!" The younger Winchester head fell with a thud against the open window panel as one of Dean's fingers, slick with his own pre-come, magically appeared inside him.

"What was that _Sammy_? I didn't quite catch that." Dean smirked against Sam's neck as he added another digit and fingered his hole to open wider. He did always love to taunt Sam. The fact that he couldn't fight back just made it more amusing. The fact that he couldn't fight back because he was too busy moaning and practically fucking himself on Dean's hand just made it incredibly hot.

"Uh…Dean! Come on man….I-I can't do this much more….! Come on…." Sam looked over his shoulder, eyes pleading and lust blown, locking with Dean's. His knees and back hurt in this position. It was too hot and stifling uncomfortable in the small space. If it wasn't for the intense need to be fucked right now, Sam would have called the whole thing off a while ago. A fleeting thought crossed his mind that it wasn't worth it.

Seeing his brother practically undone and begging in front of him, Dean decided to show some mercy and stop teasing him. He needed Sam too right now. He was actually surprised he held out this long from how badly he wanted, _needed_, to be in Sam right now.

With a swift hand, Dean yanked Sam's jeans down hard, the denim bunching to the back of his thighs. He spat in his palm and slicked up his cock, though he really didn't need to with the way it was leaking, and drove it deep inside the willing body in front of him in one fail swoop.

The initial breach was a bit much for both of them. They moaned in unison for different reasons, long and loud, sparing just a moment to get over the shock before starting to move.

"Oh God, Sammy, fuck! You feel so fucking good Sam. Look so fucking hot too! God, no one else better see you like this. No one but me!" Dean was surprised he had the coherent mind to keep talking. It did feel good. _Better_ than just good. It felt amazing, like everything in the universe had righted itself for this one blinding moment when he and Sam were connected. He blamed the curse. Dean didn't think such girly things while fucking. He especially didn't think of Sam.

Sam thought, in some portion of his mind that hadn't completely escaped him, though where that was he wasn't sure,that he probably looked ridiculous. Clutching the door of the Impala in a white knuckle grip, head bobbing in and out of the open window in time with Dean's thrust, with this probably retarded expression on his face of his eyes screwed shut while incoherent jargon spilled out of his slack jawed mouth into the middle of nowhere their car happened to be.

But where ever that somewhere in his head was that he thought about this, he honestly could muster the strength to care. Dean was right, it did feel good. Felt amazing. Because it was Dean. It was Dean who was fucking him so good his eyes rolled back. It was Dean touching him like he was the greatest, most precious thing in the whole world. It was Dean who kept telling him how hot he was like this, that Sam was his, who growled _'mine' _in his ear before biting that spot just behind it that made him buck harder against Dean. Because it was Dean, who he trusted, loved, would do anything for, it made everything so much better than in the past when he had conceded to try and feel the space that leaving had left in him.

"Shit, fuck…Dean I'm…I'm gonna…uhn!"

"Yeah, I know Sam. I can practically feel your about to pop. God, you grip my dick any tighter in that hot ass of yours you're gonna take it off! And then where would we be, hn? Who'd fuck you good then Sammy? Or would you start doing the fucking, _little bro_?"

"Dean!" Sam's whole body somehow managed to convulse and lock up at the same time as his come splattered against the soft, leather seats.

"Shit! Fuckin'…Damnit!" The make shift sentence of curses was ripped from Dean's mouth as Sam gripped him vice tight and milked him for all he was worth as he too came.

The brothers collapsed in an awkward sort of heap across the back as they took a moment to catch their breath and readjust to the encroaching reality that was starting to sink in.

"You're cleanin' that up by the way." Dean said, the words slightly muffled by Sam's damp hair from where his face had landed. If Sam hadn't been so tired and sated he would have rolled his eyes or scoffed at his brother. Instead he just shrugged his body and muttered,

"Get off. You're heavy."

"Are you saying I'm fat?" Dean said, pretending to be offended, but with a small smile on his lips that surprised him. He chalked up his good nature and ease of the situation to having an awesome orgasm mere moments ago. In a minute, he surmised, he'd realized what they had done and the guilt and disgusted would settle in, but….not right now. For right now, he just wanted to bask in this moment with Sam where things weren't weird and he didn't have to think or be confused or wonder about what would happen in the future when this was all said and done. Right now, he just wanted to be close to his brother, figuratively speaking.

"No, I'm not saying your fat, but it might not hurt 'ca to maybe eat a salad or some fruit instead of those greasy heart attacks on a bun that you're oh so found of." Sam smirked a little against the plush upholstery and moved his arm just a fraction to fake elbow Dean in the ribs. He was ok with this too for right now. No need to rush back to reality when reality sucked even more than usual.

"That's ok Sam. You can eat the chick food. After all you're the one that's the girl in our relationship." Dean snickered as he tried to block Sam's assault. It wasn't easy to hit someone when they were behind you, let alone on top of you. Dean made a mental note to keep that in mind for the future.

When the moment was over, Dean's face and shoulder sagged. He sighed quietly to himself as he got off Sam and stuffed himself back in his pants before righting his clothes that got rustled in the fray. He made another mental note to stop at the next rest station they saw so they could clean themselves up properly. Dean's skin and pants were sticky. He was sure Sam was much worse than he was in that department too. "Hey Sam," The younger Winchester stopped trying to smooth back his mussed hair and looked over at his brother who sat limp next to him in the backseat. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't of….I mean I should of…." Sam sighed quietly to himself. He thought he would have at least a little bit more time before the awkwardness settled in.

"It's ok Dean. It's not like we have any control over this."

"I know, but I should be better Sam. It's my job to protect you and to look out for you. Not to keep hurting you and taking advantage of you like that fucking cunt back at school." Dean sneered and glared angry at his hands clenched on top of his thighs. He should be better! He should be stronger! He should fight this, do more, not be selfish! Just because he wanted it didn't mean that he could just use Sam like he was nothing! His Sammy was everything. He deserved so much better than Dean.

Sam placed a gentle hand on top of Dean's clenched one. "Dean it's ok. It's not the same." He said reassuringly.

"It's not that different is it though Sammy. I keep hurting you. I can't stop myself from hurting you." Dean admitted, disgusted more by this than the actual act that he claimed.

"You're not hurting me Dean, seriously." True, Sam's ass soft of hurt from the sex, his legs were painfully tingly from being asleep, and his back hurt from the position he was in, but he wasn't in any real pain. In fact, he felt….good. A lot better than he had in a while actually. "I'm really ok Dean, stop beating yourself up about this. I know that this…that it's not….look I know that this is weird and awkward and _really_ messed up even for us, but we'll get through it. Stop worrying about me, ok Dean? I'll be fine. I swear. I'd tell you if I wasn't you know that, right Dean?" Dean looked over at Sam with sad green eyes. See that was the problem for Dean. He knew Sam wouldn't.

His Sammy would do anything to make Dean happy, do anything for him not to worry.

He remembers when Sam saved up every penny he ever made or found for over a month so he could buy Dean a vinyl, collectors copy of The Wall for his birthday when he had gone through his Pink Floyd obsession. He even hocked his .22 for it, but Dean bought it back for him. He remembers when Sam spent an entire week with three broken ribs and didn't tell anyone because he didn't want Dean to have to worry or get in trouble with Dad for him getting hurt under Dean's watch. If Dean hadn't slapped him on the back one day he probably never would have found out. Sam would have just sat there in quiet agony with a smile on his face while Dean watched oblivious.

It's one of the things he loved and hated about Sam. Sam loved and cared for him so much that he was willing to put himself second just so Dean could be happy. Why did anyone think that Sam suffered through all that crap diner food, skank bars, and long night banished to the Impala while Dean had a quicky? Because it made Dean happy, and if Dean was happy, Sam would be happy.

"Yeah Sam, I know. But just tell me if something's wrong ok." And because it made Sam happy, Dean would pretend to believe him. Sam wasn't the only one ok with letting themselves play second fiddle if it made his brother happy.

Sam smiled. "Ok. Chick flick moment over?"

"Chick flick moment over." Dean confirmed and moved to return to his placed behind the wheel.

"Can we stop at a gas station or somethin' in a bit? I, uh, kinda need to get cleaned up." Sam said, a shy blush staining his cheeks as he shifted uncomfortably in the back seat. Dean smiled faintly as the Impala roared back to life and he steered her back on the road.

"Sure Sam, whatever makes you happy."

* * *

_Ok, wow. I never expected people to like this story so much. Just….wow. I don't know what to say. Thank you to everyone who faved, reviewed, and added me/this story to their watch lists! It makes me happy!_

_As always, all reviews and feedback are appreciated. Courteous critics only please. Flames will be laughed at whole heartedly. _


	6. Chapter 6

_Disclaimer: I own nothing. It's so very sad._

_A/N: I am so very, very sorry that it took me so long to update. I meant to have this up a week ago but came down with a serious sickness and have had to play catch up in school and recover. I am sorry that it took so long! Anyway, I hope this chapter makes up for it and you all enjoy!_

_

* * *

_

It took five days for Bobby call with a lead. Word through the grape vine said, that in a town a couple miles away, several people had lost their fucking minds. Well, their fucking minds were perfectly intact. It was the rest of their minds that they had lost that was the problem.

According to Bobby, dozens of people in the town were experiencing hyper sexuality to the point of banging trees. People were being arrested left and right for indecent exposure, sexual assaults, and any other sex based crime you could think of. Six people had already died. And we aren't just talking about someone getting a 'gift' that they couldn't return, we're talking someone's heart physically burst from being over worked by having sex for _hours_. Dean was a fan of sex, a big fan really, but the thought of having sex for hours and hours on end made his balls hurt and his face scrunch up like one of those uppity church ladies that looked down their nose at anything fun because it was 'dirty'.

"From what Bobby said we can be in town before noon. We can start canvasing as soon as we get there. Hopefully we can luck out this time and she'll still be there. Bitch's disappearing act if fuckin' pissin' me off." Dean said, stuffing the last of his clothes into his duffle. Sam had done the same, finished before him in fact, but had made no indication that he planned on moving from the edge of the bed that took up the majority of the room.

There was only one bed because it seemed pointless to spend the extra cash to get one with doubles. They would end up in one or the other anyway. The last one had been a complete waste.

Dean had meant to keep driving until he found Lust and sent her back to hell. But when the road was starting to become a hazy blur in front of the Impala's wheels and he was swerving his baby very close to the ditch in exhaustion, he pulled into an off the beaten path motel for the night.

Sam had startled awake in the back when Dean woke him and swayed sleepily into the lobby with his brother. Dean felt bad for having to wake him but knew that it wouldn't do them any good if he crumpled into a heap in front of the door. The aging manager had looked at them with a slight quirk of a brow over coke bottle glasses like he didn't believe him when he told him that he and his brother needed a room. He gave a gruff humph and handed Dean the keys, knowing from his many years in the dive motel business that it was best not to ask or saying thing.

The brothers didn't speak as they trudged into the room, Sam still half asleep on autopilot and Dean focused on getting in a few hours to stay off collapsing before getting on the road again. The brother's didn't even bother unpacking. They just dropped their bags and went to their respective beds, falling into a fitful, false sleep.

It was in the dead of night that Sam appatently couldn't take it anymore and crawled into Dean's bed with an apology; whether it was for possibly waking or not staying in his own bed he wasn't sure. Not that Dean was asleep or anything. His body practically hummed with being so close to Sam. It seemed that anytime he wasn't touching Sam now his skin became hyperaware of this fact and felt the need to remind him where Sam was so he could fix it.

It was out of pride that he would refuse to give in. A sense of _'ha-ha, take that bitch!'_ when he would fight that burning desire that could cook his insides black. But when Sam slithered under the covers and wrapped his arms around Dean, like he was a living breathing security blanket, he couldn't fight. He instantly felt at ease, the dull ache that seemed to pool in him whenever Sam wasn't touching him _finally_ stopping, and fell into a peaceful sleep that he hadn't had in months.

If Dean ignored the heavy petting, the intimate touching, and the stolen deep kisses during sleep, he could almost remember a time when this happened more frequently. Times when John would be running low on funds and two beds were too much of a luxury. When the heating broke and the tiny space heater in the room did little to stay off the December cold that leaked through old window frames. When Sam would have a nightmare about thing, at the time, he thought weren't real and wanted Dean to protect him.

The Sammy grew up. He learned that those things he feared were real and was trained to defeat them. Separate beds where always found with warm sleeping bags to cling to instead to warm bodies. Words like 'inappropriate' were used now instead of 'cute' when boys became young men. If Dean were being honest with himself, he missed that about their relationship. That closeness they shared when they were all the other needed and wanted. But when Sammy grew into Sam, he wanted other things. Like a normal life and college and a family that could be cut out of a Norman Rockwell painting. Things that Dean could never give him. So Dean let Sam leave to get those things he wanted at the cost of his own. Dean thinks he read a book to Sammy about that once, the _'Giving Tree'_ or something.

"If we luck out the bitch will be back in hell by lunch tomorrow." Dean said, reloading his gun for another (hopefully) productive day. "Dude, are you listening to me?"

"What if we don't get this fixed Dean?" Sam asked, completely ignoring Dean's question and continuing to sit like a bump on a log. Dean stops his movements and looks seriously at Sam.

"You can't think about that Sam."

"I'm not. I've actually been thinking about what's gonna happen when we get this fixed." Sam finally looked up from staring at the faded carpet to Dean with blank hazel eyes. "What's gonna happen Dean?"

Dean sighs and pulls his bag off the bed. Sam did always have a gift for pointing out the elephant in the room. "I don't know Sam." Dean replies sullenly, rubbing the back of his neck. He doesn't know what to say and he doesn't want to address the truth. The truth is that they can never be the same or normal again.

This isn't like the other times that demons and the supernatural have made them hurt each other. The asylum incident in Illinois, Meg's possession, the siren that almost made them kill each other, Ruby. All those things had eaten away at them, torn them apart. But after a while they came back together, like the jagged edges of paper, never like it was but still good. They did because they knew in the end they were brothers and they didn't really hate each other, that they loved each other, and that they needed the other. But this time, the thing that was tearing them apart was the thing that healed them so many times in the past. They could get over the hate and the anger, but how did you get over love?

"We'll just have to cross that bridge when we come to it. Right now, let's focus on getting this fixed so we can get back to the way things should be." Dean adds in an attempt to be optimistic.

Sam seems to want to say something, something important, but what comes out is, "Yeah, like they should be." In a cross between sad and bitter, before he picks up his bag off the floor and is out the door.

Dean stares at the empty space in the door his brother used to fill. He thinks he should ask Sam what his problem is, but isn't in the mood to deal with 'bitch-Sam' today. Instead he pulls his bag on to his shoulder too and heads out into the light of day.

* * *

Dean isn't happy. Sam isn't happy. And by Dean's estimate that if he isn't happy and Sam isn't happy, then nobody should be fucking happy. He just wants to drown this damn day in a large bottle of whiskey and forget all about it. Hopefully, that large bottle of whiskey he's craving can help with that.

Canvassing had not gone as planned to say the least. The people in jail, or in the psych ward, were too busy to try and hump any solid object to give any credible leads. The police seemed to have their thumbs up their asses. And the ME had not explanation for the corpses in his morgue. Dead end after dead end had been the theme of the day for the Winchesters.

By the end of the day, the Winchester brothers had only found one tiny lead that could help them. A bar called Rosa's near the edge of downtown. The place was a bit of a dive, but historic in that sense that almost everyone's great-whatever got piss drunk and fell off one of the bar stools once upon a time. Aside from historic, it seemed that all the E-junkie crack heads seemed to have all visited one place.

The police had canvassed the area, but had found no credible leads. Of course that's what happens when you don't know what you're looking for. So Sam and Dean headed there that night to check it out.

When they had walked into the bar, Sam instantly stalked off to the other side of the bar like Dean wasn't even there. He was ignoring him. And it always hurt when Sam ignored him. Given the current circumstances through, it was killing him.

Dean couldn't blame him though. He had no one to blame but himself. He was the one that blew up at Sam.

"_Damnit Sam, stop it!" The man in question's hand snapped back from Dean like he'd been burned. A startled look crossed his face as he looked at his brother in confusion._

"_What?" Sam asked innocently._

"_You know what Sam! We already talked about this. Rule number 4: no touching in public!" Dean snapped at him. He almost blew their cover in the morgue. The M.E had looked at them strangely as he tried to explain the cause of death in the six victims that graced his slabs. And who wouldn't really. Two grown adult men, masquerading as FBI partners, fidgeting around like school children as Dean tried to remain professional and flinch away from Sam's touchy-feely hands. And it hadn't stopped there. It seemed that today Sam's need to touch Dean had escalated to new heights. Everywhere they went, it didn't matter the place, and people were staring. Who wouldn't really? Sam was practically groping Dean's ass constantly in public for Christ sakes!_

"_I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I…honestly didn't notice" Sam answered bashfully._

"_Bull shit Sam! How could you not notice your hand cupping my ass?" Dean accused harshly. He knew he wasn't being fair, but he was on a roll and couldn't stop._

"_I don't know! Maybe it has something to do with Lust being here?" Sam shot back, embarrassed and hurt by his brother's harsh tone. _

"_You don't see me trying to get in your pants every five seconds do ya!" Dean retaliated._

"_Look I said I'm sorry! It's not like I'm in total control here! What do you want me to do Dean?"_

"_Just stay away from me Sam!"_

He hadn't meant to say that.

Dean was just pissed….at everything right now. He had lost his temper, lashed out, and Sam was an easy, near target. All he wanted was to give that bitch a hot ticket to hell and get things back to the way they were. Was that so much to ask?

But what Sam had said earlier that day, and the thoughts that it brought up in Dean's head, had struck a nerve. What if things didn't or couldn't go back to the way they were? What if that bond they had was ruined forever? What if Sam wanted to leave again after this? Dean wouldn't want to stay with after all the things he had done. No matter how good it felt….

Dean tossed the shot from the bartender back and welcomed the whiskey burn. He scanned the room for Sammy, but couldn't find his mop of hair. Figures, the onetime Sam's height doesn't make him stick out like a sore thumb is the time Dean is looking for him.

He wasn't too worried about Sam. He could take care of himself. And it wasn't like Sam could get that far. He still had to be within the bar, lest the side effect of Lust's spell start to kick in. Still, not having Sam immediately by his side was awful. He always hated when Sam wasn't near him, always wondered where he was and if he was ok and when he would come back; missed him even if that was the proper 'girl' word to use. Dean had always wanted Sam to be near him. To be the one person that would stay by his side. Nothing would ever change that. _I should go apologize,_ Dean thought begrudgingly. He hated to have to apologize, but was comforted by the fact that Sam would always forgive him with that big heart of his.

"Hey there," Dean turned to his left to see a perky, voluptuous brunette suddenly perched on the bar stool next to him.

"Oh...hey," He replied, not sure, for the first time since he was about thirteen, what to say to the woman. She didn't seem to notice. Her dark brown eyes still looking at him like he was a piece of meat and she was starving and about to rip into him with those shiny white teeth that made up her smile.

"I'm Sarah. I was wondering if you maybe wanted to have a drink together." She offered, seeming to try for coy but coming off aggressive. Needy or slightly desperate might be a better description.

"That's ok. I'm not really in the drinking with company mood." Dean said dismissively. She wasn't fazed.

"Well, maybe I could offer you something else. Maybe something a bit more _private_?" She said, seeming to throw caution and discretion out the window. Dean just looked at her blankly.

"I'm really not interested." Surprisingly enough, Dean really wasn't.

For the first time in a very, very long time Dean wasn't interested in the random bar fly that landed on his arm. He didn't want her and he didn't understand why. She was pretty, bordering on gorgeous even, with her wavy black hair, big brown eyes, and smooth honey colored skin from her long legs to her manicured finger tips. She was willing, very willing judging by her body language and obvious hints. For all intents and purposes he should be interested, ecstatic even, that this woman was here. But he wasn't.

All he kept thinking about when he looked at her was that her hair wasn't right. It should be a bit shorter and not so dark. Her eyes weren't right. They should be hazel. He shouldn't be looking down at her. She should be taller. She shouldn't be a girl. She should be Sam.

With that thought, Dean got up from his bar stool, no longer interested in his whiskey or his 'company'. He halted abruptly when one of those well-manicured hands caught his arm as he walked past. "Come on! I…I really just…I can't explain it, I just….! God, I need someone! I need you!" Dean's personal space was suddenly filled with a busty brunette. Her speed nowhere near hindered by her bulky, red platform heels and seeming hell bent on kissing the day lights out of him.

Dean, too startled to react, just let himself be kissed. He didn't reciprocate, couldn't. All he could think about while this strange woman kissed and tongued the inside of his mouth desperately was _'I don't feel anything. This isn't good. This is awful. I feel sick. She doesn't kiss like Sam. Sam kisses way better than her. I want to be kissing Sam.'_

He came to the conclusion that he should probably get her off but the decision was made for him. A firm, large hand grabbed his shoulder and Dean stumbled back from the sudden yank that dislodged him from the needy girl. Dean half expected to meet the face of some angry boyfriend when he was roughly turned around. What he found though surprised him.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Sam yelled. His face stricken in anger as his narrowed eyes darted from Dean's shocked face to the daze woman not two feet away. "This is what you call finding a lead?"

"Hey, he's mine! I saw him first!" The female brunette shrieked, but clamed up when those intense hazel eyes focused on her. She lets out a gasp and her legs began to tremble, from fear or something else neither was sure. Sam, however, didn't care. He grabbed Dean by the bicep and hulled his older brother haphazardly out of the bar while Dean tripped over his feet to keep up.

* * *

The air outside the bar was cold. The back of the bar reeked of trash, stale beer, and gasoline. The sound of cars echoed off the high brick walls of the alley the back exit led to. The location had been selected specifically because it was easy to bring new supplies in and kick belligerent drunks and brawlers out. So when the flimsy metal door smacked against the brick no one paid attention.

"What the hell man?" Dean yelled, stumbling to keep his balance when Sam practically threw him into the alley. "What's your problem?"

"My problem? What's your problem? What the fuck were you thinking swappin' spit with some bar slut?" Sam yelled back, eyes narrowed and sneering angrily at the other man. Dean glared back.

"Hey, she came on to me! I didn't do anything!" Dean defended. Sam scoffed.

"Oh yeah, I saw that. You just let yourself be orally molested by that skank! You sure as hell 'didn't do anything' to stop her!"

"Why the fuck should I?" Dean bellowed back, but had the air knocked out of him right after as he was pinned to the brick behind him by a large, menacing man.

"Because you belong to me damnit! And I'm not sharing, not anymore!" Sam hissed dangerously, his breath washing over Dean's face, before he kissed him brutally on the mouth.

Dean was frozen for a moment. He just stood there, wide eyed, and let his mouth be aggressively assaulted by the agile tongue that had invaded. Then his brain kicked started again and he tried to push Sam off, fight back, but for only a moment. Then he gave in to those bruising lips with a heated moan at their mercy.

Dean remembers once that he had told Sam that he got all tingly when Sam took control. Back then it had been a joke. Now, he was dead serious. He was almost glad that Sam was still holding him pinned against the wall. He was pretty sure his legs would have buckled completely without the support. His body was incredibly hot. Everywhere Sam touched seemed to burn. Bolts of lightning struck him where ever Sam's hands lay and he seemed to be touching everywhere. Dean couldn't be sure. He was certain his brain had short circuited.

He'd never felt this way. Not with anyone, well anyone but Sam. This was intense. He couldn't think. He couldn't breathe. Maybe that had something to do with the fact that Sam wouldn't stop kissing him long enough to breathe.

Then suddenly, Sam was gone. Dean was damn near ready to cry, though he would deny it adamantly, but never got the chance to process the momentary absence fully.

"Hey what the-" Dean's sentence was cut short when the air was knocked out of him and his face was planted against the brick wall once at his back.

"You know, I've been thinking Dean, maybe you wouldn't be such an ass sometimes if yours got a good pounding every once in a while." Sam said in a husky, dark tone. The smirk on his lips was obvious in his voice.

Dean's eyes grew wide at the realization of what Sam had planned. He started to squirm and fight again, but Sam held fast. "Shhh….calm down, it'll be ok." Sam said, the cockiness seeming to fade.

"No Sam! Let me go!" Dean yelled back over his shoulder at his younger brother. Sam seemed to ignore him and began pressing warm, wet kisses on Dean's neck. Dean stopped squirming for a moment, distracted by the hot kisses. It probably didn't help that one of those large hands had somehow snaked to his front and cupped his crotch.

Dean bit his lip to the point of blood to not moan out loud. He could….he couldn't want this. No! Dean wasn't gay! Yeah, he had maybe…thought about it. But he wasn't gay! This had to be the curse messing with his head. It was the only reason he could think that he was even entertaining the idea!

"I want you Dean. I need you. I want you the way you have me. I….I just need you so much. I've never wanted anyone the way I want you. Please." For someone who seemed to be in control here, Sam's voice was horribly close to begging. It was like it hurt him how much he needed Dean.

Dean was scared to admitted, but he needed Sam too.

He thinks he gives a shaky nodded, unable to speak under the assault of kissing and touching, to give Sam the ok.

For a moment, Sam seemed ecstatic. Like this big weight had been lifted off of him and this need his stifled, if only a little, with Dean's consent. His free hand cups Dean's chin to tilt his head back and devours his mouth.

The hand cupping his crotch snakes into his pants and starts to pistoning around his hard on. Dean thinks that he shouldn't be enjoying this so much. He's never even thought about doing this with another man. But _God_, it feels _so_ good!

He knows that he's moaning like a prostitute from the street corner right about now, but he can't help it. He just decides to stop fighting. He can't fight against these feelings inside him. He can't fight against the want and the need. He can't fight against Sam. He could never fight Sam.

Dean feels two fingertips pressed gently to his lips and he wonders for a second if Sam is trying to tell him to stay quiet. Sam must have seen the confusion on his face because he leans in close and whispers, "Suck," low by his ears. Dean moans wantonly before he does what he's asked. He sucks Sam's fingers deep into his mouth, swirls his tongue around them, to slick them up as best he can. He goes off of instinct and what his former bed mates have done in the past. He must have done well, because Sam shivers a little and moans at the image he must be presenting. He's a little ashamed to admit it, but it turns him on too.

Dean moans in protest around the fingers when the hand down his pants stops stroking him but corrects it when it undoes his jeans. The denim sags and Sam pushes it down to his knees. The fingers in Dean's mouth are pulled out with a wet pop and Dean's a little ashamed to admit that he whines when they are.

Dean opened his mouth to speak, ask what was wrong, but the words died in his throat when a spit wet finger pressed inside him.

It doesn't hurt. Then again, he doesn't expect it to. He's done this part before, when he was alone and curious about some gossip a drunk friend had let slip out when they were trading sex stories. It had been ok. He didn't get the hype. He's almost about to tell Sam to give it up. This isn't for him, even if it feels good. Then Sam hits something. Something inside him just cuts everything out, like the button on a remote, and Dean moans were so loud that he's actually embarrassed. He suddenly gets what all the hype's about and he wants it so bad!

His skin flushes bright red and he's panting in between loud moans. Dean's body thrashes and he's rocking back against Sam as his body rocks back and another finger goes inside. Dean's body is burning up with the need to have Sam fuck him. He knows that he should quiet down, stop wanting this, stop practically fucking himself on the two or three fingers that are in him now, but he doesn't care. He just wants more. He wants this more than he's ever wanted anything in his life and can't seem to stop himself from thinking _This is Sam, this is Sam, oh God this is Sam!_ And he doesn't feel bad about it.

The fingers are removed and Dean whimpers a little, something else he'll later deny. He doesn't have to wait long before something else is replacing the fingers, something wider and harder and hot. Dean's eyes widen to the size of saucers and the natural reaction to pull away and fight kicks it. Sam's free arm wrapped around Dean's waist and pulled him back away from the wall while holding him still. "Dean, Dean Stop! I'm trying to make this good for you, okay? I can't do this if your thrashing." Sam says and it's something in his voice that calms Dean down. "Do…Do you want me to stop?" Even though Sam asks, it's obvious that he wants Dean to say no. Almost like when you ask someone if they want the last cookie. You do it to be polite, but silently pray they say no. Dean almost lets out a 'yes' without thinking, but something catches his attention. Sam is shaking. He's trembling really with the sheer force of will it takes to not pound Dean into the wall like an animal. He doesn't want to hurt Dean, he really doesn't. It's a small comfort to Dean that he's trying so hard to make him feel good at the cost of his own.

And it's only fair really. Dean's been taking advantage of Sam's ass from the get go, and only recently started trading blow jobs with Sam instead of just getting him (he's still a little weirded out that he's not weirded out about that and actually turned on). He figures it's his turn after all the times Sam's bent over and taken it over the past couple days.

"No, it…it's ok Sam." Dean's voice cracks a little when he speaks but knows Sam needs to hear him say it. There's a small sigh from Sam, in relief possibly, followed by a nod. He pulls Dean's hips towards him a little more, something he's not happy about. He's not really comfortable with his hands pressed against the brick while his hips stick out at a 45 degree angle like he's about to be stripped searched. But….he wants this and it scares him. He still thinks that he shouldn't want this and that it's wrong, but he can't…stop. Stop wanting this, stop wanting Sam. But these doubts pale in comparison to the lust that burns inside him and he forces himself to hold still while Sammy lines up and pushes in.

It doesn't hurt like Dean expects. Which is good, he's glad for that, ecstatic really. The physics of it had him worried. It still burns thought and feels really awkward. But….it's good though. Maybe good wasn't the right word, but Dean could handle this. He realizes that it's been a while before anything happens and it dawns on him that Sam must be waiting for him. Dean looks over his shoulder, catches those intense hazel eyes drugged out with lust, and he nods for Sam to continue.

Sam's thrusts are slow and deliberate, obviously giving Sam time to adjust to this new act that their sharing. It takes all of Sam's will power not to go faster. He wants this to be good for Dean, but he's so damn tight and feels so damn good that Sam is scared that he will actually die for the intense pleasure of finally being inside Dean gives him.

After some slow stead thrust, Dean starts to relax and react. He pushes back some and moans as the intrusion become pleasurable. He finally gets what the hype about this is about. The brothers begin to pant as the pace picks of. Their clothes almost suffocating with the heat that's coursing through them, but what can you do? It's one of the draw backs of having sex in a public place.

Sam shifts just a little. The angle change allows his cock to hit Dean's prostate every thrust, and it's more than Dean can stand. "Oh God Sam, more! Give it to me! I need…oh god so fucking good! _Jesus_, fuck me! Harder! Please, please, _Sam_!" Later, when this is all over, Dean will deny that he said any of these things even when anyone in a three block radius could hear. He'll say it was the curse that made him do it. That it wasn't him that begs his little brother to fuck him harder against the rough brick while he rocked against his fist. But right now, he doesn't care. Nothing else matters, and Dean is shameless in his need.

"Oh God Dean! Dean! I can't believe….God I can't believe this! Wanted to do this so much! I need you so much. Want you. Love you." Sam's mouth is spilling out words that he barely realizes are leaving or understands. Dean does though. A shock goes through him as his whole body stiffens and the wall in front of him is painted white with his cum. Behind him, Sam groans and climaxes. Dean moans some, a little grossed out and turned on by the warm, sticky substance flowing into him.

For a moment, they stand still, trying to adjust to the real world and catch their breath again. "You ok?" Sam asks after a while, a slight pant still in his voice.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Get off me ok." Dean says gruffly and groans when Sam's weight leaves his back and his cock dislodges from his ass. Sam tucks himself back into his jeans and rearranges his shirt and hair. Dean moves to pull up his pants, but winces slightly in the process. His ass hurts now that he's not blinded by lust and endorphins. "Are you sure you're ok?"

"Geez, Sam, I'm not a girl! I'll be fine, it won't kill me!" Dean retorts, trying to make a show that he's fine.

"It's just that…I know it hurts the first time and I didn't want to….." Sam's voice his sheepish and there is a blush on his cheeks.

"Course you did Sammy, and don't worry you didn't hurt me." Dean says with a cocky smirk almost like he was the one doing the fucking. "Let's get out of here. This place sticks. Plus, I'm hungry, need a shower, and need to put a cap in some bitch's ass." He continues with typical Dean bravado. Sam smiles slightly and nods, following Dean out of the alley a few steps behind.

No longer under scrutiny, Dean's face walks. His legs and ass do hurt, a lot really, and there is a suspicion substance trying to escape down his legs. But that doesn't bother Dean. He can handle all that. What he can't handle is the words playing in his head. "_Need you. Want you. __**Love you.**__"__Sammy, you can't say things like that now man….._

_

* * *

_

_I would like to thank everyone again for their patients in the very slow updating. I apologize again. Any feedback would be loved and appreciated (constructive critics only please)_

_Also, if you have some free time, go vote for me on DeviantArt in the ObscureandForbidden fangroup Halloween Contest. I'm number 3! (It's the Hallo-Wincest story for those of you that have read it). Here is the link to the voting page where the rules can be found (just remove all of the spaces. Had to put them in for the link to show up) Thanks for reading!_

H t t p : / / o b s c u r e a n d f o r b i d d e n . d e v i a n t a r t . c o m / b l o g / 3 6 1 3 0 0 2 8 /


	7. Chapter 7

_Disclaimer: I own nothing. It's so very sad._

_A/N: I am so very, very sorry that it took me so long to update. I got raped with finals, final projects, holiday ridiculousness, and just one thing after another. I just had to take a break and that meant everything that wasn't work or school had to be put on the back burner (but the hiatus paid off. 3.06 GPA bitches!). But now that it's all done I can **finally** get back to writing my fics and **hopefully** finish this before the New Year (fingers crossed people). Thanks for sticking with me and I hope you enjoy the newest chapter!_

* * *

"Damnit Sam, I said I'm fine! Quit askin'?" Dean shouts at the younger Winchester, sick of Sam asking for the ump-th time if he was alright.

"Geez sorry, I'm just trying make sure you're ok. Sorry for givin' a damn." Sam said, trying to appear flippant and uncaring, but the look of concern seeming to be permanently ingrained on his face gave his manly bravado away. He hunches his shoulders and spins the bottle of Sam Adam's he had gotten when he and Dean walked back into the bar between in his palms. A little more canvassing and another beer couldn't hurt, Dean had said.

"Look, I said I'm fine, that means I'm fine, ok Sam." Dean says, lifting his bottle his lips and trying to look macho as he leaned against the tattered bar; sitting down was out of the question at the moment. As Dean took a long pull of his beer, his face broke out into a grimace and he all but slammed the amber glass back on the bar. "Something just touched my leg."

Sam looks up from his beer and tilts back to look behind his brothers legs. "I don't see anything."

"No, something touched my leg _inside _my pants." Dean hissed, trying to keep his voice low and looking seriously at Sam through his lashes. Sam face broke out into a puzzled furrowed before realization dawned on him and his eye grew wide before focusing back on his beer.

"Oh…yeah…that-that happens sometimes…." Sam stammered, mentally cursing for sounding like some prepubescent teenager in his first sex-ed class. But hey, how were you supposed to confidently or casually addresses the fact that your brother, who you just had the most amazing fuck of your life with, has your cum dribbling out his ass because you came hard enough to see the stars and back? Oh, and did Sam mention the fact that just thinking about it was making him hard again? Yeah, he would totally take helpful pointers here if anyone was offering.

"Ah! _Sick_!" Dean cries, maybe a little louder than necessary for the two of them judging by how the bartender arched a brow down the bar at them. Dean's cheeks flush momentarily and he polishes off the rest of his beer as a distraction. "I'm gonna...go to the bathroom or something…" He mutters and tries to walk with his typical swagger to the back of the bar, but failing miserably.

* * *

Bar bathrooms were not the most hygienic place in the world. They were only ever good for taking a quick piss or puking up that last shot that sent you over the edge. That's why Dean tries to avoid them as much as possible when he's in a bar unless he has to 'break the seal'. He thinks absently, as he's wiping the back of his thighs and ass of sticky come, who the hell thought it was hot to fuck in a bathroom stall. Dean had fucked a lot of people in a lot of places, but a dive bar bathroom was not one of them.

Dean grimaces a little as the last of the cum residue is cleaned off. He thinks for a moment that made he should carry wet naps or something, but squashes the idea because he thinks maybe that makes him look like he's asking for it. And Dean is definitely not asking for it! He's not gay, he think to himself. Yeah, ok, in the heat of the moment Dean may have wanted and been into but now that he had tried it, he knew that he was _definitely_ not gay. Well…maybe only top gay…and only for Sam. '_That sounds worse doesn't? I'm only kind of gay 'cause I like to fuck my younger brother up the ass and kinda liked it a little when he fucked me up mine? God, I'm pathetic! So fucked up!_' Dean angrily throws the used tissues into the toilet and flushes the wasted paper.

Dean goes to the sinks and stares blankly into the dingy basin while cool water rushes over his hands. _'Sammy, why would you go and say a stupid thing like that? How am I supposed to be around you after you say something like that? How am I supposed to act? Like I didn't hear? That's probably best. Sam probably didn't mean it anyway. Slip of the tongue, nothing more. After all everyone knows when someone says 'Love you' during sex it only mean 'I love having sex with you' not 'I **love** you'. Sammy doesn't feel that way. **I** don't feel that way. God! I'm so pathetic!'_ Dean maybe hits the air dryer a little harder than necessary, but stands there while it pretends to dry his hands.

After deciding that his hands are dry enough, he rubs the lasting cool water across his face and decides that he and Sam had wasted enough time and it was time to go back to the motel and catch some shut eye before they hit it again tomorrow. Dean was about to push the swinging door open when a pair in the booth beside the narrow hallway that separated the bar from the bathrooms catches his attention.

"Come _on_ baby! Didn't we have a fun time last night?" The voice of a desperate man carries back through the narrow space and Dean sneers a little at how pathetic he sounds. He can only see the back of the man's head and the side of his face. He looks like he hasn't slept in days and has been strung out on something for at least that long

"Sorry sweetheart, I don't do repeat performance." The voice of a woman, who Dean can't see but sounds like she's examining her finger nails in boredom, replies.

"Come on, please! Please baby, just one more time! No one can do me like you do! I can't even look at my wife without thinkin' of you!" Dean sneers full on at the man's desperate words. '_Lousy cheatin' bastard'_

"Look sweet cheeks, I said no. Why don't you go home and fuck that pretty wife of yours? God knows she probably needs a good poundin'?"

"No! I want you!" The sound of glasses being knocked over and a small shrug over an arm being grabbed follows the desperate man's demands and Dean almost jumps out to rescues what he thinks is a poor girl in distress, but there's no further struggle. In fact, there's a chuckle.

"Tell you what sweet cheeks, you wanna win me over?" The man's face seems to light up like a kid in a candy store and nods edgerly. A hand cups his face under his chin, right red nails almost cutting into the skin dirty up by 5 o'clock shadow. "Then go stick your dick in a meat grinder, fuck that for a while, and get back to me." Dean's eyes grow wide and his brows knit into a tight crease as the man seems to almost skip out the bar in joy at an attempt to prove himself.

_'What the fuck….'_ Dean almost, almost wants to ask this chick that question that filters through his mind. However, when he looks back at the booth his eyes grow wide and his brow unknots and shoots up to his hair line. There, drinking one of those girly umbrella drinks, for all the world to see, sits Lust.

* * *

_Sorry my long hiatus did not produce any smut. We shall see if I can get any into the next chapter to make up for it (I make no promises though). I would like to thank everyone again for their patients in the very slow updating. I apologize again. Any feedback would be loved and appreciated (constructive critics only please)._


	8. Chapter 8

_Disclaimer: I own nothing. It's so very sad._

_

* * *

_

Dean's eyes bugged out of his head and he remained frozen in the narrow bathroom hallway. That was _her_. There was no doubt about it. Yes, her hair had been cut pixie short. Her make-up is darker a tone bordering on alluring and brothel. She looks nowhere near as innocent looking as she had been when Dean had first met her in, ironically, another bar. But that's definitely Lust, there's no doubt about it.

Dean snuck out of the narrow corridor and pressed his back against the opposite wall. He slithered with his against the hard surface away from her and the darted across the other side of the bar in a manner that by most would be considered comical. "Sam!" The younger Winchester choked on his beer as Dean suddenly appeared on the opposite side of him than he had assumed he would return to.

"Dude what the hell? Where did you come from?"

"Check behind my left shoulder at my three o'clock." Dean said evenly, ignoring Sam, and moving to his original spot on his brother's right.

Sam glared at him but tried to casually look over his brother's shoulder to try and see what he was talking about. "What am I looking for Dean?"

"Blonde, back booth, stupid little umbrella drink in hand." Sam focused harder on searching for the description and then his eyes widened. "You see her now?"

"Yeah, I see her." Sam confirmed and focused back on Dean. "What are we gonna do now?" Sam asked, turning back to the bar and trying to act casual.

"We wait for her to leave and follow her. She's gotta be crashin' somewhere. Even demons have to sleep, or at least I think they do. In her case, at least they need a place to fuck." Dean replied ordering a shot of whiskey to calm down the urge to finish the job right now. That wouldn't go over well in public.

The brother continued to sit at the bar for another hour or so, sipping beer and casually keeping their heads down to not be suspicious. Finally, Lust seemed to be bored with the dank bar atmosphere and got up to leave. Sam and Dean gave her three seconds out the door before they paid for their drinks and headed out the door.

"So what's the plan Dean?" Sam asked as they made a quick stop to collect supplies out of the Impala's trunk.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I'm kinda lookin' forward to beatin' her in the head with this big metal tire-iron." Dean said with a quick smirk and holding up the iron rob usually used on cars before closing the trunk.

They followed her for a couple of blocks, giving her about six or seven paces ahead, before she stopped at an old brick house that looked like it could have been crafted in the early sixties. She stopped in front of her door, or at least it was 'hers' now since she probably butchered the occupants and hid them in the basement or something like all good little evil demons did, and seemed to be fishing around in her clutch for her house keys.

From around the corner Dean nodded at Sam and though Sam felt that something was far too easy about this he followed when Dean charged at her from behind.

Sam was right to worry. Because the second that they crossed the pristine threshold of Lust's, or who-ever this used to be's, yard they ran smack into an invisible wall like one of those dogs with the collar and the electric fence.

"Really boys, I'm surprised at you." Lust said, casually turning around with her keys in her hand, "Thinking you could sneak up on a girl like that. Tsk, tsk, tsk." She opened the door and flung it open wide. "Why don't you boys come in?"

It wasn't really a question, because they didn't have much a choice. The Winchesters were pulled, or more thrown, into the house by an invisible force and went scattering in heaps on the hard wood floor. Dean recovered quickly and charge at Lust with the iron rod. She easy grabbed the bar mid swing and his free arm before head butting the older Winchester back to the ground. "Iron? Hm clever, but that only works in the minors' baby. I'm in the big leagues." Lust held up her palm to show Dean, the skin only looking like bright new sunburn, before projecting him further across the room with a kick to the ribs.

Lust smirked insidiously before her eyes turned black and focused on the younger Winchester spouting Latin like a priest. She descended on him in two long steps and back handed him quickly before he could get any further with the incantation. "Now, now, don't make me have to hurt you Sam. The big bad boss man wouldn't like it if I added a new hole to his precious new toy." Lust told him, bent at the middle to lean over him like one would to speak on level with a child.

The sound of a loud crack echoed across the disheveled living room and Lust stood slowly while touching the back of her head.

"Ow!" Lust screeched with murder in her eyes as she saw red like the blood on her hand. Dean didn't stand a chance when she quickly reach out and grabbed his throat. She thrashed him so hard against the wall that plaster crumpled around him and Dean had to fight to stay conscious from the impact and lack of oxygen his lungs were getting.

"You know, I was playing nice. I let you off _easy_ the first time. But now I think I'm gonna strangle the life out of your pathetic body and toss it out the window so the whole world can see your insides." Dean struggled against the manicured hand clenched against his throat and gasped to breath. Lust chuckled, "What's the matter Dean? Can the big bad hunter not fight back against an ity-bity girl?" She started laughing at him as his face began to turn red before suddenly screaming as holy water from the plastic bottle in Sam's jacket dosed her back.

She dropped Dean and the older Winchester scrambled to catch his breath and picked up the fallen tire-iron and swung at her like a homerun pitch finally knocking her unconscious. "So….that could have gone better." Dean said, still gasping for breath and Sam looked at him like he was some sort of idiot.

* * *

"Hey, wakey wakey." Lust cried out and thrashed awake against the chair she was bound to as holy water steam hissed off her skin.

"Ahhh! You know, you could have just used _regular_ water." She hissed through clenched teeth, looking around at her bound wrists and ankles and the ring of salt that surrounded her chair.

"Yeah, well, I wanted something that was a bit more _memorable_. " Dean said with a cold sneer. Lust opened her eyes into narrowed slits and chuckled.

"Yeah, I heard all about how _memorable_ you were in the Pit. Good to see that all that _fine_ training hasn't gone to waste." Lust cried out again when holy water was thrown in her face. Her bright red nails cutting crescents into the wooden arms of her chair.

"Oops, sorry, must have slipped." Dean mocked before putting down his holy water flask. "You're little field trip top side is over Lust. Time to send you packin' before you torture anymore poor, unfortunate souls."

Lust chuckled darkly and looked heatedly up at his though coal rimmed eyes. "Torture? I set them free. Everyone says that pride is the root of all sin, but, not to brag, it's really me. Everyone wants something. _Pine_ _s_ for it. _Begs_ for it. They're all just too scared or wrapped up in 'propriety' to get what they need. I help them with that so they can get what they want."

Dean scoffed at her. "Right, so you have nothing to do with that guy going to fuck a meat grinder?"

Lust giggles a little at that a gives a smile of pearl whites too sweet to even be called natural given the subject.

"I merely gave him a suggestion to prove his 'love' for me. It all comes back to the simple things. He wants something and he'll do whatever it takes to get it. Though, I'm not sure he'll have the equipment to get it after that." She giggles again; a mousy sound this time followed by an almost cute crinkle of her nose.

"Whatever. In a few short minutes, Mr. Meat grinder and all those fine people you used you're lusty powers on to do what you wanted will be back to normal. I think you're gettin' off easy too for what you forced on Sam and me. I _really_ hope they tear you a new one in the Pit. Sam, do it." On Dean's orders, Sam begins to read from the Latin text. Lust's expression does not turn fearful like the others in her position. Her face gets this peculiar look to it, then brightens with realization, then falls back as fits of laughter falls from her mouth.

The sound is enough to stop Sam from reading the ritual to look at her in confusion like Dean. It takes her a minute to stop laughing and catch her breath. She almost wishes her hands weren't bound so she could wipe the tears of laughter from her eyes.

"You….you idiots think that I _made_ you do that? Oh, oh this is too good! I can't breathe!" Lust's head falls back again as she begins to laugh. Sam and Dean look at either other curiously, eyes hinting something else as well, before Sam returns to reading over the sound of maniacal laughter.

The cackling is interrupted by black smoke pouring out of her gaping mouth as Sam finishes the incantation quickly and Lust exits the body.

* * *

"Yeah Bobby everything's fine now. Yeah, uh-hn, yeah we're good, curse went away soon as the bitch punched her one way ticket back to hell. Yeah, yeah, we _know_ Bobby. We'll be more careful next time. We will be. You too, talk to you soon Bobby." Dean flicked his phone closed after the soft click of disconnection came from Bobby's end of the line.

"What Bobby say?" Dean looked over his shoulder at Sam from where he had stopped pacing and turned around, putting his phone on the rickety card table in their motel room.

"Asked if we were done with Lust. Asked if we were better now that she's gone. Called us idjit for not bein' more careful. Said he'd call us in a few day to see if we had picked up anything new. Same old, same old." Dean replied, picking up his beer that was also on the table and taking a quick swig.

"Are we all better Dean?" Sam asked, looking down at his hands in his laps where his fingers laced seeming to ponder the universe for the past hour from the edge of the bed.

"Yeah, yeah, Sam we're fine." Dean said, after a moment of hesitation. Though even to his ears nothing about it sounded reassuring. "It's been a while now and I haven't…I mean we haven't tried to…you know, so we must be ok." Dean wasn't an idiot. He knew that Sam wasn't just talking about effects of the curse. Now that it was over, they had to face what they had done with the harsh light of reality and the residual effects of it were starting to bubble to the surface.

Then there were Lust's final words, her last jab at them before she was thrown back into the fires of hell. Even though it hadn't been brought up, like the rest of this little 'adventure' now that it was put to bed, those words were eating after at Dean. Chipping away like an ice pick and making him question all those things that just a few days ago would never have been a thought in his mind.

"Demons lie Sam. She was just trying to get to us. What she said…you know that she has to be lying…right? I mean…you know I-I don't…I'm not-"It was you." Sam cut in, just above a whisper, but Dean heard it clear as day. He looks at Sam curiously, who just continues to look at his feet sullenly like his world was about to break. "That night, when I told you about my roommate and I said the wrong name, it was you." Sam clarified. His voice a bit louder but still heavily guarded and sounded like it could make even the hardest heart of stone break.

Dean blinked a few times and his mouth gaped open and closed like a fish, gasping for words instead of air.

"Second semester at college was…bad." Sam said, seeming to understand that Dean was looking for an explanation, even if Dean didn't. "I still missed you, hell even Dad, that it hurt. Add to that spending the holidays in some run down temporary dorm while everyone else goes home to spend time with their families, it was brutal. I honestly thought about giving up and coming back, but I didn't want to give Dad the satisfaction. I thought that after the semester started I would be ok, but then…your birthday came." There's a small scoff of a laugh and a wounded smile that falls on Sam's face before he continues, "I started thinking about how much you probably hated me for leaving. I wondered if you even missed me. That…this year would be the first time that we weren't together for birthdays or holidays or anything. I got so depressed I crawled into a bottle of Jack and tried to drown." Sam sounds a little ashamed of this, but continues anyway. "I don't remember much after Brain came back to the room. I don't remember much of anything really. When I woke up the next morning, with this killer hang over, Brain asked me who Dean was and that's how I knew."

Sam looked up from his brother with pathetic, wounded eyes while Dean just stared dumbfounded and shocked back at him. "You hate me now don't you?"

"What? No, Sam, no. I don't hate you. One drunken mistaken isn't going to make me-"It wasn't a mistake. It was a slip." Sam interjected and Dean stopped mid-sentence again.

"I went over and over that night in my head so many times. Think how I could say your name in a moment like that. Believe me I've looked at all the angles. But when I stopped and thought about it, tried to piece together through the black out what happened, it wasn't just your name. I saw you. I thought of you. And…it wasn't the first time." Sam confessed, bowing his head again.

"It wasn't…" Dean asked quietly, seeming to have just enough voice to mimic his brother. Sam's mop of hair nodded at him.

"When I was younger….I just thought that it was because you were my big brother. You know, hero worship and all that. Then when I got older, I just figured it was puberty, you know. Looking at linoleum made me wanna jerk off. I just always figured that it was just a mistake. An accident. That I would grow out of it, but….I don't think I ever did." Sam said, his voice shaky as he recalled all those times when he was little and wanted to be with Dean forever. When he was a teenager that Dean's face appeared in his mind's eye when he jerked off. When he was in college and suddenly everything came crashing in on a focal point from one drunken Freudian slip. It was still a lot to deal with and it was something that he had honestly never planned on telling Dean. "Do you hate me now?"

"Sammy…I…I don't" Dean clambered for words that didn't come.

"You think I'm sick don't you? Just another notch in the freak belt." Sam said harshly, trying to build up the walls quickly before the assault came.

"No, Sam-"You haven't come near me all day." Sam stated, apparently big on interruptions today.

It wasn't lost on Dean that he hadn't gone within five feet of Sam since this was all over. Walking ahead of Sam when they had left the house where they had disposed of Lust, making himself as small as possible behind the steering wheel of the Impala, pacing the room and standing of the side furthest from Sam when they had gotten back to the room. He should have known that this wasn't lost on Sam either.

Dean was just scared. At first he wanted to make some distance between them in case the curse hadn't gone away. But then when he was pretty sure it was he still wanted that space because…..he was scared.

Yes, Dean was scared. He was scared as to what would happen if he touched Sam in anyway ever again. Would he flinch or freak out? Could he ever be near Sam again after what they had done? There were just so many questions that he honestly didn't want to deal with right now or ever. Dean didn't know where to start.

The older Winchester swallowed the lump in his throat that was building and walked to few paces over to the bed and sat down next to Sam. Though he chose to stare at the floor, he could feel Sam staring at him, waiting for him to say something.

But he doesn't. His head is reeling. He starts thinking about all those times when he missed the hero worship in Sam's eyes for something more. When it could have happened when that swift from brotherly love went to something more. How he could have missed Sam's _love_ for him.

As Dean thinking his mind starts to wonder in order to find some answers. Maybe he had wanted so badly to keep hold of that hero worship that Sam willing gave him in his younger days. But why? _Because Sam is all I have_. Which is not technically true, he has other people in his life that he can look to. But in those younger years, and even now, Dean still thinks of Sam as that one and only person. _One and only,_ Yeah, the one and only person that he could fall back on, that will never truly leave him, that would go to the ends of the Earth for him.

No one else would do that for.

No one else would sacrifice so much for him. No one else would be there for him. No one could ever love him like his Sammy does.

_Or how I love Sam._

Dean stops thinking as his mind seems to hit a preverbal wall. Had he maybe missed Sam's shift into something else because he had also missed his own?

Could he….really love Sam that way?

Dean's mind jump starts and tries to rationalize quickly. He couldn't. Sam was his brother! This was just….his mind playing tricks on him from Lust's curse! He doesn't love Sam like that! He wasn't…he didn't…he couldn't….

But then he thinks about how mad he used to get when Sam went out and left him, how he attributed being half hard when Sammy was changing to just being a guy, how he only picked up blonde's in bars because something about brunette made him immediately think of Sam and then he'd be sad.

"Dean….?" Sam asks quietly, concerned by the extended silence.

Dean isn't sure why or how, but for some reason he thinks he has to test it. Has to prove that they're both wrong, that their over thinking innocent gestures and coincidence.

Dean leans in to kiss Sam.

He had meant for it to be quick. Just a peck to prove himself right, but his lips seem to have a mind of their own an want to linger. It's not a real kiss, except by maybe thirteen year old standards. Yet, somehow, without any real motion behind the kiss, it still feels….nice.

Unlike all the hot, passionate kisses they had shared over the week in the lust drunk haze, this one was clearer. It's much brighter somehow, like the first rays of sun after dark clouds scatter away.

Though not exactly chaste, Dean pulls back and looks at Sam curiously. Dean looks at him like he hasn't seen him in a while and wonders where he's maybe been all this time. Sam looks at him curiously too, but isn't content with staring and cups the back of his brother's head to pull him into a real kiss.

This one is much more passionate but still much more clean. Not tainted with the powers of Lust like their other kisses, this one is just them. All the years of missing out, ignoring the signs, ignoring that nagging in their minds and their hearts that told them _'You're missing it you moron!'_ seems to leak out and can't be contained.

When they pull back, Sam and Dean are a bit breathless but still quickly descend into another kiss.

They could talk later, when the need to kiss each other was not so strong but still just their own, when thing absolutely had to be sorted out and things weren't so newly complicated but still good. They could talk later, but right now…they just couldn't.

* * *

_It's finally finished! Thank you to everyone that read and reviewed this story! I was so touched that so many people liked it._

_I am deeply sorry that it took me so long to finish and I hope no one is too terribly disappointed in me._

_To be honest, I got distracted with another story. I had an idea for a J2 fic based off of Swan Lake (I went to see Black Swan (which was awesome!) and plot bunnies laid eggs) and started writing that instead. I've never written a J2, so this will be an experiment for me. I'll probably post it once I get a bit more along in it (ignore my shameless plug of new fiction. Lol ) _

_Anyway, thanks again for reading and be on the lookout for more fics in the near future!_ ^_^


End file.
